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A  GIRL  IN 

TEN  THOUSAND 

By  L.  T.  MEADR 

Author  of"  Bad  Little  Hannah,"  "Good  Luck," 
"TheGirlsofSt.Wode's,"   "A  Sweet  Girl  Graduate," 


A.  L.  BURT   COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS        ::        ::         NEW  YORK 


I        V^ 

wti 


A  Girl  in  Ten  Thousand 


CHAPTER   I 

"You  are  the  comfort  of  my  life,  Erne.  If  you 
make  up  your  mind  to  go  away,  what  is  to  become 
of  me?" 

The  speaker  was  a  middle-aged  woman.  She  was 
lying  on  a  sofa  in  a  shabby  little  parlor.  The  sofa 
was  covered  with  horsehair,  the  room  had  a  faded 
paper,  and  faded  chintz  covered  the  shabby  furni- 
ture. The  woman's  pleading  words  were  emphasized 
by  her  tired  eyes  and  worn  face.  She  looked  full  at 
the  young  girl  to  whom  she  spoke. 

"What  shall  I  do  without  you,  and  what  will  your 
father  say?" 

"I  have  made  up  my  mind,"  said  Erne.     "I  don't 
want  to  be  unkind  to  you,  mother — I  love  you  more 
than  words  can  say — but  I  must  go  out  into  the  world. 
I  must  live  my  life  like  other  girls." 
I 


2  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"You  had  none  of  these  ideas  until  you  met  Dor- 
othy Fraser." 

"Yes,  I  have  had  them  for  a  long  &ne ;  Dorothy 
has  given  them  emphasis,  that's  all.  Dorothy's  moth- 
er did  not  like  her  to  go  away,  but  now  she  is  glad. 
She  says  that  nothing  has  made  Dorothy  into  so  fine 
a  woman  as  taking  her  life  into  her  own  hands,  and 
making  the  best  she  can  of  it.  Before  I  go,  mother, 
I  will  get  Agnes  to  learn  all  my  duties;  she  shall 
help  you.  She  is  nearly  fourteen;  she  ought  to  be 
of  use  to  you,  ought  she  not  ?" 

"She  would  not  be  like  you,"  replied  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton.  "She  is  very  young,  remember,  and  is  at  school 
most  of  the  day.  I  won't  argue  with  you,  Effie,  but 
it  tires  me  even  to  think  of  it." 

Effie  sighed.  She  bent  down  and  kissed  her  moth- 
er. Her  words  had  sounded  hard  and  almost  defiant, 
but  there  was  nothing  at  all  hard  or  defiant  about  her 
sweet  face.  She  was  a  dark-eyed  girl,  and  looked  as 
if  she  might  be  any  age  between  seventeen  and  twenty. 
There  was  a  likeness  between  her  and  her  mother 
quite  sufficient  to  show  their  relationship ;  both  faces 
were  softly  curved,  both  pairs  of  eyes  were  dark,  and 
the  mother  must  have  been  even  prettier  in  her  youth 
than  the  daughter  was  now. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  3 

"As  I  say,"  continued  Mrs.  Staunton,  "it  fills  me 
with  terror  to  think  of  doing  without  you." 

"Try  not  to  think  of  it,  mother.  I  am  not  going 
yet,  I  only  want  to  go  very  much  indeed.  I  am  going 
to  talk  to  father  about  it.  I  want  to  have  the  thing 
arranged  while  Dorothy  is  here." 

Here  Effie  went  suddenly  on  her  knees  by  the  sofa 
and  threw  one  young  arm  protectingly  around  her 
mother. 

"You  do  not  know  what  it  means  to  me,"  she 
said.  "When  Dorothy  talks  of  the  full  life,  the  keen 
interest,  the  battle,  the  thrill  of  living,  I  feel  that 
I  must  go  into  it — I  must." 

While  Effie  was  speaking,  Mrs.  Staunton  looked 
fixedly  at  her.  There  are  moments  which  all  moth- 
ers know,  when  they  put  themselves  completely  out 
of  sight,  when  they  blot  themselves  out,  as  it  were. 
This  time  had  come  to  Mrs.  Staunton  now.  After 
a  pause  she  said,  and  her  words  came  out  even  with- 
out a  sigh : 

"The  question,  after  all,  is  this,  Effie:  What  will 
your  father  say  ?" 

"When  he  thinks  it  out  carefully  he  will  be 
pleased,"  replied  Effie.  "He  must  be  interested  in 


4  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

the  profession  I  want  to  take  up.  How  often — oh, 
how  often,  mother,  has  he  groaned  and  sighed  at  the 
>bad  nursing  which  his  patients  get !  You  know  you 
have  always  said,  and  he  has  said  the  same,  that  I 
am  a  horn  nurse.  Won't  he  be  proud  and  pleased 
when  I  come  home  and  tell  him  all  about  the  new 
ways  in  which  things  are  done  in  London  hospitals  ? 
You  know  there  are  six  of  us,  arid  Agnes  and  Katie 
are  growing  up,  and  can  take  my  place  at  home  pres- 
ently. Of  course  I  know  that  father  is  quite  the 
cleverest  doctor  in  Whittington,  but  nobody  gets  ill 
here,  and  it  is  quite  impossible  to  go  on  clothing  and 
feeding  six  of  us  with  no  means  at  all.  I  do  not 
think  I  am  vain,  mother,  and  I  do  not  really  care 
very  much  about  dress,  but  mine  is  shabby,  is  it  not  ? 
I  think  I  should  look  pretty — as  pretty  as  you  must 
have  looked  long  ago — if  I  were  better  dressed." 

"No  dress  can  change  your  face,"  said  Mrs.  Staun- 
con  with  sudden  passion.  "You  have  the  sweetest 
and  dearest  face  in  the  world  to  me.  When  you  go 
away  the  sunshine  will  go  out  of  my  life;  but,  my 
darling,  my  darling,  I  won't — you  shall  never  have 
it  to  say  that  your  mother  stood  in  your  way.  I  must 
think,  however,  of  what  your  father  will  say  to  this. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  5 

I  can  only  warn  you  that  if  there  is  one  person  your 
father  dreads  and  dislikes  more  than  another,  it  is 
the  modern  girl.  He  said  to  me,  'Thank  God,  Effie 
has  none  of  that  hideous  modernity  about  her.  She 
is  fairly  good-looking;  she  does  not  think  about  Gir- 
ton  or  Newnham,  or  any  of  the  women's  colleges ;, 
in  short,  she  has  no  advanced  ideas.'  " 

"That  is  aU  he  knows,"  replied  Effie.  "The  fact 
is,  I  must,  and  will,  do  something  to  earn  my  living. 
You  are  sending  George  out  into  the  world  to  win 
his  spurs,  and  I  am  going  to  win  mine." 

"In  what  way?"  asked  Mrs.  Staunton.  "You 
know  you  are  not  clever." 

"Dorothy  thinks  I  can  be  a  nurse,  mother.  May 
she  come  and  see  you,  and  talk  it  over  ?" 

"There  is  no  harm  in  talking  it  over,"  said  Mrs.. 
Staunton.  "But  now  I  wish  you  would  go  upstairs 
and  help  Susan  to  put  the  children  to  bed.  You  can 
bring  baby  downstairs  if  you  like,  and  I  will  undress 
him.  Run  along,  Effie — run  along,  there's  a  good 
child." 

"Oh,  yes,  mother,  I'll  go ;  only  just  answer  *iv»  one 
question  first.  May  Dorothy  come  here  aftei  v.  ,  vibr 
to-night  ?" 


6  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"What  is  the  use  of  my  seeing  her  ?  Your  father 
is  the  one  to  decide." 

"I  will  ask  father  to  stay  in  after  supper." 

"I  don't  think  he  will.  A  message  has  come  from 
the  Watson  people  over  at  the  farm.  Mrs.  Watson 
was  taken  bad  with  a  stitch  an  hour  ago,  and  they 
want  your  father  as  quickly  as  he  can  go." 

"Well,  he  will  be  back  in  time — he  won't  spend 
the  whole  evening  there.  Anyhow,  Dorothy  can  come 
and  see  you,  and  if  father  does  come  in  before  she 
leaves,  well  and  good.  I  may  run  and  tell  her  to 
eome,  may  I  not  ?" 

"Won't  you  put  the  children  to  bed  first,  and  bring 
me  baby  ?" 

"Oh,  yes !  yes !  if  you  insist." 

"I  do,  Effie.  While  you  are  at  home  you  must 
help  me  all  you  can.  I  have  not  had  a  bit  of  strength 
since  baby  was  born.  It  is  perfectly  dreadful  to  feel 
all  your  strength  going  and  to  know  that  things  are 
at  sixes  and  sevens,  and  however  hard  you  try  you 
cannot  put  them  right.  Dear  me,  Effie,  I  did  think 
when  you  were  grown  up  that  you  would  stay  at  home 
and  be  a  comfort  to  me !" 

"I  shall  be  a  cheater  comfort  to  vou  when  I  send 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  7 

you  money  from  London.  Now,  don't  speak  another 
word.  I  will  put  the  children  to  bed,  and  I  will  look 
after  baby  myself,  while  you  close  your  eyes  and 
go  to  sleep." 

Effie  pressed  her  warm  young  lips  on  the  older 
woman's  brow  and  then  ran  out  of  the  room. 

There  was  a  large  nursery  upstairs,  where  every- 
thing, at  the  present  moment,  was,  as  Effie's  mother 
had  said,  at  sixes  and  sevens.  The  nursemaid,  a 
young  girl  of  seventeen,  was  not  up  to  her  duties — 
the  children  ruled  her,  instead  of  her  ruling  the  chil- 
dren. Effie,  however,  could  be  masterful  enough 
when  she  liked.  She  had  a  natural  sense  of  order, 
and  she  soon  put  things  straight  in  the  nursery.  The 
children  were  undressed  quickly  and  put  to  bed ;  and 
then  Effie,  taking  the  baby  in  her  arms,  asked  Susan 
to  go  downstairs. 

"You  can  have  your  supper,"  she  said.  "I  will 
look  after  baby." 

"I  thought  my  missus  would  like  me  to  take  the 
baby  to  her,"  said  the  girl. 

"No;  I  will  look  after  him  for  the  present,"  said 
Effie.  "Mother  is  tired,  and  she  must  sleep.  Run 
away,  Susan,  and  have  your  supper,  and  come  back 
here  as  quickly  as  you  can," 


8  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Yes,  Miss  Effie ;  and  I  am  sure  I  am  very  much 
obliged  to  you.  You  'as  a  wonderful  way  with  the 
children,  and  I  only  wish  I  could  learn  it." 

Susan  left  the  room.  Pressing  the  baby's  soft, 
curly  head  against  her  breast,  Effie  began  to  pace  up 
and  down  with  it.  The  baby  was  three  months  old ; 
he  was  fractious  and  disinclined  to  sleep,  but  when 
his  sister  began  to  purr  a  soft  song  into  his  ear,  an 
old  nursery  rhyme  which  her  mother  had  sung  to 
her  long  ago,  his  wide-open  eyes  closed,  and  he  sank 
off  into  peaceful  slumber. 

When  she  saw  that  he  was  quite  sound  asleep,  Effie 
put  him  in  his  cot,  drew  the  cot  near  the  crib,  where 
Philip,  a  dark-eyed  little  boy  of  five,  lay,  and  bending 
down  to  kiss  Phil,  said : 

"You  are  to  be  baby's  nurse  until  Susan  comes  up. 
If  he  wakes,  or  begins  to  cry,  just  pat  him  on  his 
back.  I  am  most  anxious  that  mother  should  have 
a  quiet  time ;  she  is  just  worn  out ;  and  if  she  hears 
baby  cry,  she  is  certain  to  send  for  him.  Now,  Phil, 
you  are  a  very  clever  little  man  when  you  like — I 
trust  to  you  to  keep  baby  from  crying  until  Susan 
comes  back." 

"'Es,  that  I  will,"  replied  Phil  in  a  voice  of  in- 
tense importance.  "I  do  love  'ou,  Effie,"  he  said. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  9 

Effie  kissed  him  and  softly  left  the  room.  She 
ran  downstairs  and  began  to  help  the  servant  to  lay 
supper. 

ISio  one  could  look  more  bright  than  Effie  as  she 
performed  the  thousand  and  one  duties  which  fell  to 
her  lot  in  this  poor  home.  Dr.  Staunton  was  poor, 
there  were  six  children — Effie  was  the  eldest  daugh- 
ter; it  needs  no  more  words  to  explain  her  exact  po- 
sition. From  morning  to  night  Effie  was  busy,  very 
busy,  doing  what  she  herself  called  nothing.  She  was 
getting  discontented  with  her  life.  A  feeling  of  dis- 
content had  stolen  over  her  ever  since  her  eldest 
brother  George  had  gone  to  London  to  help  his  uncle 
in  a  large  warehouse.  For  months  the  dream  of  her 
life  was  to  give  up  the  little  duties  near  at  hand  and 
to  take  some  great  duties  which  nobody  wanted  her 
to  do,  far  away  from  home.  She  was  quite  pre- 
pared for  the  advice  which  her  friend,  Dorothy 
Fraser,  who  lived  all  the  year  round  in  London, 
and  only  came  home  for  the  holidays  to  Whitting- 
ton  was  able  to  give  her.  Effie's  conscience  was  not 
in  the  least  pricked  at  the  thought  of  leaving  her 
mother — it  seemed  to  her  quite  right.  "Had  she 
not  to  make  the  most  of  her  youth  ?  Why  should  she 


10          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

spend  all  her  young  days  in  looking  after  the  chil- 
dren, and  making  things  tolerable  for  her  father  and 
mother?" 

These  thoughts  kept  swiftly  passing  through  her 
brain  as  she  noiselessly  laid  the  table  and  made  it 
look  charming  and  pretty.  When  all  was  done  she 
took  up  a  little  frock  of  one  of  the  children's,  and 
sitting  down  by  the  window,  began  to  work.  Her 
pretty  dark  head  was  bent  over  her  task ;  her  thick, 
curling  lashes  lay  heavy  on  her  rounded  cheek.  Mrs. 
Staunton,  who  had  been  having  a  doze  on  the  sofa, 
started  up  now  and  looked  at  her. 

"Oh,  Effie,  dear,  I  have  had  such  a  nice  sleep/'* 
she  said  with  a  little  sigh.  "I  am  ever  so  much  the 
better  for  it.  But  what  have  you  done  with  baby  ?" 

"I  have  put  him  to  sleep,  mother.  He  is  in  his 
cot  now,  as  comfortable  as  possible." 

"How  good  of  you,  Effie!  What  a  comfort  you 
are  to  me!" 

Effie  smiled.  "I  think  I  hear  father  coming  in," 
she  said,  "and  supper  is  quite  ready." 

Mrs.  Staunton  started  up  from  the  sofa;  she 
pushed  back  her  tumbled  hair  and  shook  out  her  some- 
what untidy  dress. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  11 

"Now  let  me  make  you  trim,"  said  Effie. 

She  ran  over  to  her  parent,  put  back  her  gray 
hair  with  an  affectionate  little  touch,  and  then  kissed 
her  mother  on  her  flushed  cheeks. 

"You  look  better  for  your  nice  sleep,  mother," 
she  said. 

"So  I  am,  darling,  and  for  your  loving  care,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Staunton. 

Her  husband  came  into  the  room,  and  she  took  her 
place  before  the  tea-tray. 

Supper  at  the  Stauntons'  was  a  nondescript  sort 
of  meal.  It  consisted  of  meat  and  vegetables,  and 
tea  and  cakes  and  puddings,  all  placed  on  the  table 
together.  It  was  the  one  hearty  meal  Dr.  Staunton 
allowed  himself  in  the  twenty-four  hours.  At  the 
children's  early  dinner  he  only  snatched  a  little  bread 
and  cheese,  but  at  peaceful  seven  o'clock  the  chil- 
dren were  in  bed,  the  house  was  quiet,  the  toil  of  the 
day  was  supposed  to  be  over,  and  Dr.  Staunton  could 
eat  heartily  and  enjoy  himself.  It  was  at  this  hour 
he  used  to  notice  how  very  pretty  Eflfie  looked,  and 
how  sweet  it  was  to  see  her  sitting  like  a  little  mouse 
on  one  side  of  the  table,  helping  him  and  his  wife 
in  her  affectionate  way,  and  seeing  to  the  comforts 


12  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

of  all.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  as  even  possible  that 
Effie  could  carry  such  a  dreadful  thing  as  rebellion 
in  her  heart.  No  face  could  look  more  perfectly  hap- 
py than  hers.  Was  it  possible  that  she  was  pining 
for  a  wider  field  of  usefulness  than  the  little  niche 
which  she  filled  so  perfectly  in  the  home  life  ?  Dr. 
Staunton  never  thought  about  it  at  all.  Effie  was 
just  a  dear  little  girl — not  a  bit  modern ;  she  was 
the  comfort  of  her  mother's  life,  and,  for  that  matter, 
the  comfort  of  his,  also. 

He  looked  at  her  now  with  his  usual  grave  smile. 
'•'Well,  Effie,  useful  and  charming  as  usual?  I  see 
you  have  not  forgotten  my  favorite  dish,  and  I  am 
glad  of  it,  for  I  can  tell  you  I  am  just  starving.  I 
have  had  a  hard  day's  work,  and  it  is  nice  to  feel  that 
I  can  rest  for  this  evening  at  least." 

"Have  you  been  to  the  Watsons',  dear  ?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Staunton.  "They  sent  a  message  for  you  two 
or  three  hours  ago." 

"Yes;  I  met  the  farmer  in  the  High  Street,  and 
went  straight  out  to  the  farm.  Mrs.  Watson  is  bet- 
ter now,  poor  soul;  but  it  is  a  bad  case;  the  heart 
is  a  good  deal  implicated.  I  shall  have  to  go  out 
there  again  the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  It  would 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  13 

be  a  dreadful  thing  for  that  family  if  anything  hap- 
pened to  her." 

"The  heart — is  it  heart  trouble  ?"  said  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton. 

"Yes!  yes!  Don't  you  begin  to  fancy  that  your 
case  is  the  least  like  hers;  yours  is  only  functional; 
hers  is  organic.  I^ow,  why  have  I  broken  through 
my  rule  of  saying  nothing  about  my  patients  ?  You 
will  be  fancying  and  fretting  all  night  that  you  are 
going  to  shuffle  off  this  mortal  coil  just  as  quickly 
as  poor  Mrs.  Watson  will  have  to  do  before  long,  I 
fear.  Why,  Effie,  what  is  the  matter?  Why  are 
you  staring  at  me  with  those  round  eyes  ?" 

Mrs.  Staunton  also  looked  at  Effie,  and  the  sudden 
memory  of  her  recent  conversation  with  her  returned. 

"By  the  way,"  she  said,  "if  you  are  likely  to  be 
at  home  this  evening,  John,  Effie  would  like  to  ask 
her  friend,  Dorothy  Eraser,  to  come  in  for  an  hour 
or  two.  She  wants  to  introduce  her  to  you." 

"She  is  one  of  those  modern  girls,  is  she  not  ?" 
said  the  doctor. 

"Oh,  father,  she  is  just  splendid !"  said  Effie.  "If 
you  only  knew  her — if  you  could  hear  her  speak " 

"Well,  my  dear,  don't  get  into  a  state,  and  above 


U  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

all  things,  don't  learn  that  dreadful  habit  of  exag- 
geration. I  dare  say  Miss  Eraser  is  very  well,  but 
there  are  few  prodigies  in  the  world,  my  little  Effie ; 
and  for  my  part,  give  me  the  home  birds — they  are 
the  girls  for  my  world;  they  are  the  girls  who  will 
make  good  wives  by  and  by.  There,  my  love,  I  shall 
be  pleased  to  welcome  any  friend  of  yours,  so  ask  her 
over,  by  all  means.  She  won't  mind  the  old  doctor's 
pipe,  I  hope  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  father !"  Effie  could  not  help  smiling. 
She  knew  perfectly  well  that  Dorothy  thought  it  no 
harm  to  indulge  in  a  tiny  cigarette  herself — not  often, 
nor  every  day,  but  sometimes  when  she  was  dead 
beat,  as  she  expressed  it.  Effie  had  to  keep  this 
knowledge  of  her  friend's  delinquencies  to  herself. 
If  Dr.  Staunton  knew  that  Dorothy  did  not  consider 
smoking  the  unpardonable  sin  in  woman  he  would 
not  allow  her  inside  his  doors.  "I  will  go  and  fetch 
her,"  Effie  said,  jumping  up  and  putting  on  her  hat. 
"She  is  longing  to  know  you,  father,  and  you  can 
smoke  two  or  three  pipes  while  she  is  here." 

Effie  left  the  room.  Mrs.  Staunton  looked  at  her 
husband.  "I  doubt  if  Dorothy  Eraser  is  the  best  of 
friends  for  our  Effie." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  15 

"Eh!"  said  the  doctor,  taking  his  pipe  out  of  his 
mouth  for  a  moment.  "What  ails  the  girl  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing  at  all,"  replied  Mrs.  Staunton.  "Ef- 
fie  is  very  fond  of  her,  and  I  believe  she  really  is 
a  fine  creature.  You  know  she  is  educating  her  two 
brothers." 

"What  is  she  doing  ?  How  does  she  earn  her  liv- 
ing?" 

"Oh,  she  is  a  nurse  in  a  hospital.  She  has  been 
in  St.  Joseph's  Hospital  for  years,  and  is  now  su- 
perintendent of  one  of  the  wards.  She  gets  a  good 
salary." 

The  doctor  rubbed  his  hands  together  in  a  some- 
what impatient  way.  "You  know  my  opinion  of  lady 
nurses,"  he  said,  looking  at  his  wife. 

"Well,  dear,  make  the  best  of  Dorothy  for  Effie's 
sake.  I  hear  the  steps  of  the  two  girls  now.  You 
will  do  what  you  can  to  be  agreeable,  won't  you  ?" 

"No,"  said  the  doctor;  "I  shall  growl  like  a  bear 
with  a  sore  head,  when  I  see  women  who  ought  to 
be  content  with  sweet  home  duties,  struggling  and 
pining  to  go  out  into  the  world." 

The  last  words  had  scarcely  left  the  doctor's  lips 
before  the  dining-room  door  was  opened,  and  Effie, 
accompanied  by  her  friend,  entered  the  room. 


16          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Dorothy  Eraser  was  about  twenty-eight  years  of 
age ;  she  was  tall ;  she  had  a  fair,  calm  sort  of  face ; 
her  eyes  were  large  and  gray,  her  mouth  sweet.  She 
had  a  way  of  taking  possession  of  those  she  spoke 
to,  and  she  had  not  been  two  minutes  in  the  shabby 
little  sitting-room  before  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Staunton  were 
looking  at  her  earnestly  and  listening  to  her  words 
with  respect. 

Dorothy  sat  near  Mrs.  Staunton. 

"I  am  very  glad  to  know  you,"  she  said  after  a 
pause.  "Effie  has  talked  to  me  over  and  over  again 
about  you." 

"May  I  ask  how  long  you  have  known  Effie  ?"  in- 
terrupted Dr.  Staunton. 

"Well,  exactly  a  week,"  replied  Miss  Eraser.  "I 
have  been  home  a  week,  and  I  am  going  to  stay  an- 
other week.  I  met  Effie  the  night  I  came  home, 

and But  one  can  cultivate  a  friendship  in  a 

week ;  don't  you  think  so,  Dr.  Staunton  ?" 

"Perhaps,  perhaps,"  said  the  doctor  in  a  dubious 
voice.  "I  am  slow  in  making  friends  myself.  It  is 
the  old-fashioned  way  of  country  folks." 

"Oh,  pray  don't  speak  of  yourself  as  old-fashioned, 
Dr.  Staunton;  and  doii't  run  down  country  folks,  I 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  17 

see  so  many  of  them  at  the  hospital.  For  my  part, 
I  think  they  are  worth  twenty  of  those  poor  London 
people,  who  are  half  starved  in  body,  and  have  only 
learned  the  wicked  side  of  life." 

"Poor  creatures!"  said  Mrs.  Staunton.  "I  wish 
you  would  tell  us  something  about  the  hospital,  my 
dear.  It  is  vastly  entertaining  to  hear  all  about  sick 
people." 

"No;  now  pardon  me,"  said  the  doctor,  "you  will 
do  nothing  of  the  kind,  Miss  Fraser.  There  are  not 
many  sick  folks  about  here,  but  what  few  there  are 
I  have  got  to  look  after,  and  my  thoughts  are  both- 
ered enough  about  them  and  their  sicknesses,  so  I 
would  rather,  if  you  please,  turn  our  conversation 
to  people  who  are  not  ill.  The  wife  here  is  a  bit 
nervous,  too,  and  she  is  never  the  better  for  hearing 
people  talk  about  what  they  call  'bad  cases.'  I  think 
it  is  the  worst  thing  in  the  world  for  people  to  keep 
talking  of  their  maladies,  or  even  about  other  peo- 
ple's maladies.  My  motto  is  this :  When  you  are 
ill,  try  and  see  how  soon  you  can  get  well  again; 
and  when  you  are  well,  try  to  keep  so.  Never  think 
of  illness  at  all." 

Miss  Fraser  looked  fully  at  the  doctor  while  he 


18  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

was  talking.  A  slight  frown  came  between  her  eye- 
brows. Effie's  bright  dark  eyes  were  fixed  on  her 
friend. 

"Illness  interests  me,  of  course,"  Dorothy  said 
after  a  pause,  "but  I  won't  talk  of  it.  There  are 
many  other  things,  as  you  say,  just  as  vital." 

"Well,  at  any  rate,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton,  "Miss 
Eraser  can  tell  us  how  she  came  to  be  a  nurse " 

"For  my  part,"  interrupted  Dr.  Staunton,  "I  think 
it  is  a  great  pity  that  girls  like  you,  Miss  Eraser, 
should  take  up  that  sort  of  life.  Lady  girls  are  not 
suited  to  it;  for  one  who  is  fitted  for  the  life,  there 
are  fifty  who  are  not.  If  you  could  only  guess  how 
doctors  hate  to  see  a  lady  nurse  in  possession  of  a 
case.  She  is  a  fine  lady  through  it  all;  she  thinks 
she  is  not,  but  she  is.  Do  you  suppose  she  will  wash 
up  the  cups  and  plates  and  spoons  as  they  ought  to 
be  washed  and  kept  in  a  sick  person's  room?  And 
do  you  fancy  she  will  clean  out  the  grate,  and  go 
down  on  her  knees  to  wash  the  floor  ?  Your  fine  lady 
nurse  won't.  There  is  a  case  of  infection,  for  in- 
stance— measles  or  scarlet  fever — and  the  nurse 
comt-s  down  from  London,  and  she  is  supposed  to 
take  possession ;  but  one  of  the  servants  of  the  house 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  19 

has  to  go  in  to  clean  and  dust  and  arrange,  or  the 
sickroom  is  not  dusted  or  cleaned  at  all.  That  is 
your  lady  nurse,  and  I  say  she  is  not  suited  to  the 
work." 

Miss  Eraser  turned  pale  while  the  doctor  was 
speaking. 

"You  must  admit,"  she  said  when  he  stopped  and 
looked  at  her — "you  must  admit,  Dr.  Staunton,  that 
every  lady  nurse  is  not  like  that.  If  you  have  an 
infection  case  in  your  practice,  send  for  me.  I  think 
I  can  prove  to  you  that  there  are  some  ladies  who  are 
too  truly  women  to  think  anything  menial  or  be- 
neath them."  She  colored  as  she  spoke,  and  lowered 
her  eyes. 

The  conversation  drifted  into  other  channels.  After 
a  time  Dorothy  got  up  and  went  away;  and  Erne, 
yawning  slightly,  went  up  to  her  room  to  go  to  bed. 
She  slept  in  a  little  room  next  to  the  nursery.  In- 
stead of  undressing  at  once,  as  was  her  wont,  she  went 
and  stood  by  the  window,  threw  it  open,  and  looked 
out.  "What  would  father  say  if  he  knew  my 
thoughts?"  she  said  to  herself.  "He  despises  ladies 
who  are  nurses ;  he  thinks  it  wrong  for  any  lady  girl 
to  go  away  from  home;  but  I  am  going — yes,  I  am 


20  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

i 

going  to  London.  Dorothy  is  my  friend.  She  is  about 
the  grandest,  noblest  creature  I  ever  met,  and  I  am 
going  to  follow  in  her  steps.  Mother  will  consent 
in  the  end — mother  will  see  that  I  cannot  throw 
away  my  life.  Dear  mother!  I  shall  miss  her  and 
father  awfully,  but,  all  the  same,  I  shall  be  delighted 
to  go.  I  do  want  to  get  out  of  this  narrow,  narrow 
life;  I  do  want  to  do  something  big  and  grand.  Oh, 
Dorothy !  how  splendid  you  are !  How  strong  you 
look !  How  delightful  it  is  to  feel  that  one  can  live 
a  life  like  yours,  and  do  good,  and  be  loved  by  all! 
Oh,  Dorothy,  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  copy  you! 

I  hope " 

Effie's  eager  thoughts  came  to  a  sudden  stop.  A 
tall  dogcart  dashed  down  the  street  and  pulled  up 
short  at  her  father's  door.  A  young  man  in  a  Nor- 
folk suit  jumped  out,  threw  the  horse's  reins  to  his 
groom,  and  pulled  the  doctor's  bell  furiously.  Effie 
leaned  slightly  out  of  her  window  in  order  to  see 
who  it  was.  She  recognized  the  man  who  stood  on 
the  doorstep  with  a  start  of  surprise,  and  the  color 
flew  into  her  face.  He  was  the  young  squire  of  the 
neighborhood.  His  name  was  Harvey.  His  place 
was  two  miles  out  of  Whittington.  He  was  married ; 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  21 

his  wife  was  the  most  beautiful  woman  Effie  had  ever 
seen ;  and  he  had  one  little  girl.  The  Harveys  were 
rich  and  proud ;  they  spent  the  greater  part  of  their 
time  in  London,  and  had  never  before  condescended 
to  consult  the  village  doctor.  What  was  the  matter 
now  ?  Effie  rushed  from  her  room  and  knocked  furi- 
ously at  her  father's  door. 

"Father !  Do  you  hear  the  night-bell  ?  Are  you 
getting  up  ?"  she  called. 

"Yes,  child,  yes,"  answered  the  doctor. 

The  bell  downstairs  kept  on  ringing  at  intervals. 
Effie  stood  trembling  on  the  landing;  she  felt  posi- 
tively sure  that  something  dreadful  must  have  hap- 
pened. 

"May  I  go  downstairs  and  say  you  are  coming, 
father?"  she  called  again  through  the  keyhole. 

"Yes ;  I  wish  you  would.  Say  I  will  be  down- 
stairs in  a  minute." 

Effie  ran  off ;  she  took  the  chain  off  the  heavy  hall 
door  and  threw  it  open. 

"Is  Dr.  Staunton  in?"  asked  the  squire.  He 
stared  at  Effie's  white,  trembling  face.  His  eyes 
were  bloodshot,  his  hair  in  disorder ;  he  looked  like 
a  man  who  is  half  distracted. 


22          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"'Yes,"  said  Effie,  in  as  soothing  a  voice  as  she 
could  assume ;  "my  father  will  be  down  in  a  minute.*' 

Harvey  took  off  his  cap. 

"You  are  Miss  Staunton,  I  presume  ?  Pray  ask 
your  father  to  be  as  quick  as  possible.  My  little 
girl  is  ill — very  ill.  We  want  a  doctor  to  come  to 
The  Grange  without  a  moment's  delay." 

"All  right,  squire;  here  I  am,"  said  the  hearty 
voice  of  Dr.  Staunton  on  the  stairs. 

The  squire  shook  hands  with  him,  made  one  01 
two  remarks  in  too  low  a  voice  for  Effie  to  hear, 
sprang  into  his  dogcart,  the  doctor  scrambled  up  by 
his  side,  and  a  moment  later  the  two  had  disappeared. 
Effie  stood  by  the  open  hall  door  looking  up  and  down 
the  quiet  village  street.  The  great  man  of  the  place 
had  come  and  gone  like  a  flash.  The  thing  Mrs. 
Staunton  had  longed  for,  dreamed  of,  and  almost 
prayed  for,  had  come  to  pass  at  last — her  husband 
was  sent  for  to  The  Grange.  Effie  wondered  if  For- 
tune were  really  turning  her  wheel,  and  if,  from 
this  date,  they  would  be  better  off  than  they  had 
been. 

Dorothy  Eraser's  people  lived  in  the  house  nearly 
opposite.  From  where  Effie  stood  she  could  see  a 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  23 

light  still  burning  in  her  friend's  window.  The 
thought  of  Dorothy  raised  the  girl's  state  of  excite- 
ment almost  to  fever  pitch.  She  longed  to  go  over 
and  see  her  friend;  she  knew  she  must  not  do  that, 
however.  She  shut  the  hall  door  and  went  slowly 
back  to  her  bedroom.  She  wanted  to  sleep,  but  sleep 
was  far  away.  She  lay  listening  during  the  long 
hours  of  the  summer  night,  and  heard  hour  after 
hour  strike  from  the  church  clock  close  by.  Between 
two  and  three  in  the  morning  she  dropped  off  into  a 
troubled  doze.  She  awoke  in  broad  daylight,  to  start 
to  her  feet  and  see  her  father  standing  in  the  room. 

"Get  up,  Erne,"  he  said.  "I  want  you;  dress 
yourself  as  quickly  as  you  can." 

There  was  an  expression  about  his  face  which 
prevented  Erne's  uttering  a  word.  She  scrambled 
into  her  clothes — he  waited  for  her  on  the  landing. 
When  she  was  dressed  he  took  her  hand  and  went 
softly  down  through  the  house. 

"I  do  not  want  your  mother  to  be  disturbed,"  he 
said.  "There  is  a  very  bad  case  of  illness  at  The 
Grange." 

"What  is  it,  father?"  asked  Effie. 

"Well,  I  fear  that  it  is  a  complication  of  scarlet 


24  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

fever  and  diphtheria.  The  child  will  have  an  awful 
fight  for  her  life,  and  at  the  present  moment  I  am 
afraid  the  odds  are  terribly  against  her." 

"Oh,  father!  and  she  is  the  only  child!"  said 
Effie. 

"Yes !  yes !  I  know  all  that ;  but  there  is  no  use  in 
going  into  sentiment  just  now — the  thing  is  to  pull 
her  through,  if  possible.  Now,  look  here.  I  can 
send  to  London,  of  course,  for  a  nurse,  but  she  would 
not  arrive  for  several  hours — do  you  think  your 
friend,  Miss  Eraser,  would  undertake  the  case  ?" 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  she  would,"  said  Effie. 

"That's  just  like  you  women,"  said  the  doctor  im- 
patiently. "You  jump  to  conclusions  without  know- 
ing anything  at  all  about  the  matter.  The  child's  case 
is  horribly  infectious.  In  fact,  I  shall  be  surprised  if 
the  illness  does  not  run  right  through  the  house.  The 
mother  has  been  sitting  up  with  this  baby  day  and 
night  for  the  last  week,  and  they  were  so  silly  they 
never  sent  for  a  doctor,  imagining  that  the  awful  state 
of  the  throat  was  due  to  hoarseness,  and  that  the  rash 
was  what  they  were  pleased  to  call  'spring  heat.'  The 
folly  of  some  people  is  enough  to  drive  any  reason- 
able man  to  despair.  They  send  for  the  doctor,  for- 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  25 

sooth,  when  the  child  is  almost  in  the  grip  of  death ! 
I  have  managed  to  relieve  her  a  bit  during  the  night, 
but  I  must  have  the  services  of  a  good  nurse  at  orce. 
Go  over  and  wake  Miss  Fraser,  Erne,  and  bring  her 
to  see  me.  If  she  has  the  pluck  she  gave  me  to  un- 
derstand she  had,  she  will  come  in  as  a  stop-gap  until 
I  get  somebody  else.  And  now,  look  here:  the  case 
is  so  infectious,  and  your  mother  is  so  weak  just  now, 
that  I  am  going  to  devote  myself  altogether  to  it  for 
the  next  few  days.  I  am  going  to  take  up  my  abode 
at  The  Grange,  and  I  shall  wire  to  my  old  friend, 
Edwards,  to  look  after  the  rest  of  my  patients.  There 
are  only  half  a  dozen  to  be  seen  to,  and  he  will  keep 
them  quiet  until  I  am  free  again.  Now  go  over  and 
bring  Miss  Fraser  for  me  to  see.  I  have  driven  down 
on  the  squire's  dogcart,  and  will  take  her  back  with 
me  if  she  will  come.  Run  along,  Effie,  and  wake  her 
up." 


CHAPTER   II 

DOROTHY  ERASER  was  sound  asleep  when  Effie 
rushed  into  her  little  room. 

"Get  up!"  said  Effie,  shaking  her  friend  by  the 
shoulder. 

As  a  nurse,  Miss  Eraser  was  accustomed  to  unex- 
pected disturbances.  She  opened  her  eyes  now  and 
gazed  at  Effie  for  a  bewildered  moment,  then  she  sat 
up  in  bed  and  pushed  back  her  heavy  hair. 

"Why,  Effie!"  she  exclaimed.  "What  do  you 
want?  I  fancied  I  was  back  at  St.  Joseph's,  and 
that  one  of  the  nurses  had  got  into  trouble  and  had 
come  to  me ;  but  I  find  I  am  at  home  for  the  holidays. 
Surely,  it  is  not  time  to  get  up  yet  ?" 

"It  is  only  five  o'clock,"  said  Effie.  "It  is  not  the 
usual  time  to  get  up ;  but,  Dorothy,  father  wants  you. 
There  is  a  bad  case  of  illness  at  The  Grange — very 
bad  indeed,  and  father  is  nearly  distracted,  and  he 
wants  to  know  if  you  will  help  him  just  for  a  bit." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  27 

"Why,  of  course,"  cried  Dorothy.  "I  shall  be  de- 
lighted." 

"I  knew  you  would;  I  knew  you  were  just  that 
splendid  sort  of  girl." 

Miss  Fraser  knit  her  brows  in  some  perplexity. 
"Don't,  Effie,"  she  said.  "I  wish  you  would  not 
go  into  such  ecstasies  over  me;  I  am  only  just  a 
nurse.  A  nurse  is,  and  ought  to  be,  at  the  beck  and 
call  of  every  one  who  is  in  trouble.  Now  run  away, 
dear ;  I  won't  be  any  time  in  getting  dressed.  I  will 
join  you  and  your  father  in  a  minute." 

"Father  will  see  you  in  the  street,"  said  Effie. 
"The  fact  is " 

"Oh,  do  run  away!"  exclaimed  Dorothy.  "I  can- 
not dress  while  you  stand  there  talking.  Whatever 
it  is,  I  will  be  with  your  father  in  two  or  three  min- 
utes." 

Effie  ran  downstairs  again.  Mrs.  Fraser,  who  had 
let  her  in,  had  gone  back  to  bed.  Effie  shut  the 
Erasers'  hall  door  as  quickly  as  she  could.  She  then 
went  across  the  sunlit  and  empty  street  to  where  her 
father  stood  on  the  steps  at  his  own  door.  The  groom 
who  had  driven  the  doctor  over  was  standing  by  the 
horse's  head  at  a  little  distance. 


28          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Well,"  said  Dr.  Staunton,  "she  has  fought  shy 
of  it,  has  she  ?" 

"No;  she  is  dressing,"  said  Effie.  "She  will  be 
down  in  a  minute  or  two." 

"Good  girl!"  said  Dr.  Staunton.  "You  didn't 
happen  to  mention  the  nature  of  the  case  ?" 

"No !  no !"  answered  Effie ;  "but  the  nature  of  the 
case  won't  make  any  difference  to  her." 

The  doctor  pursed  up  his  mouth  as  if  he  meant 
to  whistle ;  he  restrained  himself,  however,  and  stood 
looking  down  the  street.  After  a  time  he  turned  and 
glanced  at  his  daughter. 

"Now,  Effie,"  he  said,  "you  must  do  all  you  can 
for  your  mother.  Don't  let  her  get  anxious.  There 
is  nothing  to  be  frightened  about  as  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned. If  mortal  man  can  pull  the  child  through, 
I  will  do  it,  but  I  must  have  no  home  cares  as  well. 
You  will  take  up  that  burden — eh,  little  woman  ?" 

"I  will  try,  father,"  said  Effie. 

Just  then  Dorothy  appeared.  She  had  dressed  her- 
self in  her  nurse's^costume — gray  dress,  gray  cloak, 
gray  bonnet.  The  dress  suited  her  earnest  and  re- 
poseful face.  She  crossed  the  road  with  a  firm  step, 
carrying  a  little  bag  in  her  hand. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  29 

"Well,  Dr.  Staunton,"  she  said,  "I  hear  you  have 
got  a  case  for  me." 

The  doctor  gazed  at  her  for  a  moment  without 
speaking. 

"Bless  me !"  he  exclaimed ;  "it  is  a  comfort  to  see 
a  steady-looking  person  like  you  in  the  place.  And 
so  you  are  really  willing  to  help  me  in  this  emer- 
gency?" 

"Why,  of  course !"  said  Dorothy.    "I  am  a  nurse." 

"But  you  don't  know  the  nature  of  the  case  yet." 

"I  don't  see  that  that  makes  any  difference;  but 
will  you  tell  me  ?" 

"And  it  is  your  holiday,"  pursued  the  doctor,  gaz- 
ing at  her.  "You  don't  take  many  holidays  in  the 
year,  I  presume?" 

"I  have  had  a  week,  and  I  am  quite  rested,"  said 
Dorothy.  "I  always  hold  my  life  in  readiness,"  she 
continued,  looking  up  at  him  with  a  flash  out  of  her 
dark  blue  eyes.  "Anywhere,  at  any  time,  when  I 
am  called  I  am  ready.  But  what  is  the  matter? 
What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?" 

"I  want  you  to  help  me  pull  a.  child  back  from 
the  borders  of  death." 

"A  child !  I  love  children,"  said  Dorothy.  "What 
ails  the  child?" 


SO  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"She  has  acute  scarlet  fever  and  diphtheria.  No 
precautions  have  been  taken  with  regard  to  sanita- 
tion. She  is  the  child  of  rich  people,  but  they  have 
been  wantonly  neglectful,  almost  cruel  in  their  neg- 
ligence and  ignorance.  The  mother,  a  young  woman, 
is  nearly  certain  to  take  the  complaint ;  and,  to  com- 
plicate everything,  there  is  another  baby  expected 
before  long.  Now  you  understand.  If  you  get  into 
that  house  you  are  scarcely  likely  to  go  out  of  it  again 
for  some  time." 

Dorothy  stood  grave  and  silent. 

"Oh,  Dorothy!  is  it  right  for  you  to  go?"  ex- 
claimed Effie,  who  was  watching  her  friend  anx- 
iously. 

"Yes,"  said  Dorothy,  "it  is  right.  They  may  pos- 
sibly be  obliged  to  fill  my  place  at  St.  Joseph's.  I 
was  only  considering  that  point  for  a  moment.  After 
all,  it  is  not  worth  troubling  about.  I  am  at  your 
service,  Dr.  Staunton.  We  may  require  one  or  two 
other  nurses  to  help  us,  if  things  are  as  bad  as  you 
fear." 

"God  bless  you !"  said  the  doctor.  Something  very 
like  moisture  came  into  his  eyes.  He  began  to  blow 
his  nose  violently.  "Now,  Effie,  you  will  do  your 


A  GIRL  IX  TEN  THOUSAND  31 

best  at  home,"  lie  said,  turning  to  his  daughter.  "This 
way,  please,  Miss  Fraser." 

"Good-by,  Effie,  dear,"  said  Dorothy.  She  kissed 
her  friend.  The  doctor  and  the  nurse  walked  toward 
the  dogcart ;  he  helped  her  to  mount,  and  then  drove 
rapidly  down  the  street.  The  vehicle  was  soon  out 
of  sight. 

"I  wonder  what  father  will  think  of  Dorothy  after 
this  ?"  thought  Effie  to  herself.  The  feeling  that  her 
father  would  really  approve  of  her  friend  gave  her 
much  consolation.  She  went  back  into  the  house, 
and  as  it  was  now  half-past  five,  decided  that  it  was 
not  worth  while  to  return  to  bed.  There  was  always 
plenty  to  be  done  in  this  little  house  with  its  over- 
flowing inhabitants,  and  Effie  found  heaps  to  occupy 
her  until  it  was  time  to  go  into  the  nursery  to  help 
the  little  nursemaid  with  her  various  duties. 

The  children  always  hailed  Effie  with  a  scream 
of  delight.  They  were  not  a  bit  afraid  of  her,  for 
she  was  the  most  indulgent  elder  sister  in  the  world, 
but  all  the  same  she  managed  to  make  them  obey 
her. 

Susan  was  sent  downstairs  to  get  her  breakfast, 
while  Effie  saw  the  elder  ones  safely  through  the 


32          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

process  of  dressing.  She  took  the  baby  on  her  knee, 
and  removing  his  nightclothes,  put  him  into  his  bath, 
•and  dressed  him  herself,  quickly  and  expeditiously. 
She  then  carried  him  into  her  mother's  room. 

Mrs.  Staunton  had  spent  a  troubled  night. 

"Is  that  you,  Effie  ?"  she  exclaimed,  looking  at  her 
daughter;  "and  oh,  there  is  baby!  How  sweet  he 
looks !  What  a  splendid  nurse  you  are,  my  darling, 
and  what  a  wonderful  comfort  to  me!  Give  me  my 
dear  little  man.  I  will  take  care  of  him  while  you 
see  about  breakfast." 

"How  are  you  this  morning,  mother  ?"  asked  Effie. 
"Have  you  had  a  good  night  ?" 

"Yes ;  pretty  well.  I  had  one  or  two  bad  dreams. 
I  could  not  help  thinking  of  poor  Mrs.  Watson  and 
that  heart  trouble  your  father  spoke  about.  I  wonder 
how  she  is  this  morning." 

"Now,  mother,  dear,"  said  Effie,  "you  know  father 
said  you  were  not  to  dwell  upon  that — you  must  turn 
your  thoughts  away  from  illness  of  every  sort.  I 
tkought  we  might  go  for  a  little  drive  in  the  gig  this 
morning." 

"But  your  father  will  want  the  gig." 

"No,  that's  just  it;  he  won't." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  33 

"What  do  you  mean?  Surely  he  will  go  out  as 
early  as  he  can  to  see  Mrs.  Watson  ?" 

"Xo,  mother,"  said  Effie,  "he  won't — not  to-day. 
I  have  something  to  tell  you.  ]STow,  please  don't  be 
frightened ;  there  is  nothing  to  be  frightened  about." 

Mrs.  Staunton  was  half  sitting  up  in  bed ;  she  had 
thrown  a  little  pale  blue  shawl  around  her  shoul- 
ders, and  held  the  pretty  baby  in  her  arms.  She  was 
a  remarkably  good-looking  woman,  a  really  young- 
looking  woman  for  her  age,  but  weakness  was  writ- 
ten all  over  her — the  weakness  of  a  frail,  although 
loving,  spirit,  and  the  weakness  of  extreme  bodily 
illness;  for  she  was  ill — far  more  ill  than  her  chil- 
dren knew.  The  greatest  anxiety  of  the  honest  doc- 
tor's life  was  connected  with  his  wife's  physical  con- 
dition. Effie  looked  at  her  mother  now,  and  some- 
thing of  the  fear  which  dwelt  in  her  father's  heart 
seemed  to  visit  her. 

"I  have  something  to  tell  you,"  she  said,  "but  it 
is  nothing  that  need  make  you  the  least  bit  afraid. 
Father  has  left  you  in  my  charge.  He  says  I  am 
to  look  after  you,  and  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  help 
you." 

"But  what  can  you  mean,  Effie  ?  Has  your  father 
gone  away?" 


34  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Kot  really  away,"  replied  Erne,  "for  he  is  close 
to  us,  and  can  come  back,  if  necessary,  at  any  mo- 
ment ;  but  the  fact  is  this :  If  all  is  well,  father  is 
not  coming  home  for  two  or  three  days.  In  one  way, 
you  will  be  pleased  to  hear  this,  mother.  You  know 
how  you  have  wished  him  to  be  called  in  at  The 
Grange." 

"At  The  Grange !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Staunton,  start- 
ing up.  "You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  the  Harveys 
have  sent  for  your  father  ?" 

"Yes,  mother,  I  do;  and  is  not  that  good  news? 
The  little  girl  is  very  ill,  and  Squire  Harvey  came     * 
over  to  fetch  father  last  night — that  time  when  the 
bell  rang  so  suddenly." 

"I  remember,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton.  "I  made  sure 
that  some  one  came  from  the  Watsons'." 

"No;  it  was  the  squire  who  called — Squire  Har- 
vey. Father  went  there  and  found  the  little  girl 
very  ill.  He  came  back  again  this  morning  and  took 
Dorothy  Eraser  out  with  him  as  nurse ;  and  he  saw 
me,  and  he  asked  me  to  tell  you  that  he  would  stay 
at  The  Grange  for  a  couple  of  days  until  he  could 
pull  the  child  through,  and  you  are  on  no  account  to 
expect  him  home,  but  you  are  to  keep  as  well  and 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  35 

cheerful  as  possible  for  his  sake;  and  Dr.  Edwards, 
from  Boltonville,  is  to  take  father's  work  for  the 
time.  So  you  see,"  continued  Effie  in  conclusion, 
"that  the  horse  and  gig  will  be  at  liberty,  and  we 
can  go  for  a  drive.  I  thought  we  might  go  to  Bolton- 
ville, and  take  baby,  and  buy  some  fruit  for  preserv- 
ing. There  are  sure  to  be  heaps  of  strawberries  at 
the  Bolton  Farm  if  we  drive  over  early." 

All  the  time  Effie  was  speaking  Mrs.  Staunton  kept 
gazing  at  her.  As  the  eager  words  flowed  from  the 
young  girl's  lips  the  heart  of  the  mother  seemed  to 
faint  within  her. 

"You,"  she  said,  after  a  pause — her  voice  trem- 
bled, no  words  could  come  for  an  instant — "you," 
she  went  on — "Effie,  you  have  not  told  me  what  ails 
the  child." 

"She  is  very  ill,  mother;  that  goes  without  say- 
ing." 

"But  what  ails  her  ?  Why  should  not  your  father 
come  home  ?" 

Effie  thought  for  a  moment.  "I  will  tell  about  the 
scarlet  fever,  but  not  about  the  diphtheria,"  she  said 
to  herself.  "Mother  is  always  so  terrified  about 
diphtheria  ever  since  poor  little  Johnny  died  of  it, 


36  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

long,  long  ago.  She  won't  mind  scarlet  fever  so 
much." 

"Why  don't  you  speak,  Effie  ?"  exclaimed  her  moth- 
er. "You  terrify  me  with  your  grave  and  silent 
way!" 

"There  is  nothing  to  be  terrified  about,  mother, 
but  you  are  weak,  and  therefore  you  get  unduly  ner- 
vous. I  was  only  thinking  for  a  moment  whether 
you  had  better  know;  but  of  course,  if  you  wish  it, 
you  must  be  told.  The  chijd  at  The  Grange  is  suf- 
fering from  scarlet  fever." 

"Do  you  think  it  will  spread  ?" 

"Father  is  very  anxious.  I  heard  him  telling  Dor- 
othy that  Mrs.  Harvey  had  been  very  imprudent. 
You  know  how  young  she  is,  mother,  and  how  beau- 
tiful; and  she  has  been  with  this  dear  little  child 
day  and  night  from  the  beginning,  not  knowing  in 
the  least  what  ailed  her,  and  Mrs.  Harvey  is  expect- 
ing another  baby,  and,  of  course,  father  is  anxious." 

"I  should  think  he  is !"  cried  Mrs.  Staunton,  drawn 
completely  out  of  herself  by  the  tragedy  conveyed 
in  these  words.  "Oh,  poor  young  thing !  poor  young 
mother!  I  wish  I  were  strong  and  well  myself,  that 
I  might  go  and  help  her.  She  will  have  a  bad  time. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  37 

She  will  have  an  awful  risk  when  her  baby  arrives, 
Effie.  Well,  my  darling,  we  can  do  nothing  but  pray 
for  them  all.  There  is  One  who  can  guide  us  even 
through  dark  days.  Go  down,  Effie,  and  get  break- 
fast, and  then  come  back  to  me.  I  am  very  tired 
this  morning,  and  will  lie  still  for  a  little,  now  that 
I  have  got  such  a  dear,  useful  daughter  to  take  my 
place  for  me." 

Effie  put  on  a  bright  smile  and  turned  toward  the 
door. 

As  she  was  leaving  the  room  her  mother  called 
out  after  her : 

"There  is  one  good  thing;  there  is  no  diphtheria 
in  the  case.  Nothing  terrifies  me  like  that." 

Effie  shut  the  door  hastily  without  reply. 


CHAPTER   III 

MEANWHILE,  Dr.  Staunton  and  Dorothy  drove 
quickly  to  The  Grange.  It  was  still  very  early  in 
the  morning,  and  when  they  arrived  at  the  great 
hall  door  it  was  opened  by  Squire  Harvey  himself. 

"That's  right,  Dr.  Staunton!"  he  exclaimed.  "I 
am  so  glad  you  have  come.  Oh !  and  I  see  you  have 
brought  a  nurse.  What  a  blessing!  Now  perhaps 
you  will  induce  my  wife  to  take  some  rest.  How 
lucky  that  you  were  able  to  find  a  nurse  in  a  little 
place  like  Whittington !" 

"I  am  very  fortunate  indeed,"  replied  the  doctor 
in  his  hearty  voice.  "Nurse  Fraser  has  been  trained 
at  St.  Joseph's,  and  happens  to  be  staying  at  Whit- 
tington for  a  brief  holiday.  She  has  most  kindly 
consented  to  undertake  the  case  until  we  can  get  fresh 
assistance  from  London." 

"I  will  stay  as  long  as  I  am  wanted,"  said  Dorothy 
in  her  quiet  voice.  "If  I  can  be  shown  to  a  room 
38 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  39 

for  a  moment,  to  take  off  my  bonnet  and  cloak,  I  will 
go  immediately  afterward  to  the  little  patient." 

Dorothy's  voice  was  perfectly  cool  and  calm.  She 
did  not  speak  in  the  constrained  whisper  which  the 
poor  squire  thought  it  right  to  use.  There  was  an 
everyday  tone  in  her  voice  which  at  this  moment  was 
absolutely  refreshing,  and  the  sympathy  in  her  blue 
eyes  just  gave  the  right  quality  to  the  cool  tones. 

The  doctor  looked  at  her  with  unconcealed  admira- 
tion. "That  girl  is  one  in  ten  thousand,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "She  will  keep  us  all  on  our  mettle,  I  can 
see,  but  there  is  plenty  of  heart  underneath  that  cool 
exterior." 

The  great,  luxurious  house  looked  neglected  and 
wretched.  Although  the  father  and  mother  were  up, 
and  one  or  two  servants  were  assisting  in  the  sick- 
room, the  greater  number  of  the  servants  were  still 
in  bed.  There  was  no  one  to  take  Miss  Fraser  to  a 
room,  and  the  squire  looked  around  him  in  hopeless 
bewilderment. 

Dorothy  saw  at  a  glance  that  she  must  take  matters 
into  her  own  hands. 

"I  do  not  want  to  trouble  you,"  she  said.  "I  can 
put  my  cloak  and  bonnet  in  here.  I  should  like  to 
put  on  my  cap  and  apron  before  I  go  upstairs." 


40  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

She  opened  a  door  as  she  spoke,  and  went  into  sc 
room  where  all  the  blinds  were  down,  took  off  her 
outdoor  things,  and  taking  a  cap  out  of  her  bag, 
slipped  it  over  her  hair,  tied  on  a  white  apron,  and 
then  stood  ready  and  capable,  and  fresh  and  bright, 
before  the  squire  and  the  doctor. 

"Kow  come  straight  upstairs  with  me,"  said  the 
doctor. 

They  went  up  together;  Squire  Harvey  followed 
them  at  a  distance.  When  the  doctor  reached  the 
first  landing  he  opened  a  green-baize  door,  shut  it 
behind  him,  and  walked  down  a  long,  cool  corridor 
which  led  in  the  direction  of  the  nurseries. 

"Now,  look  here,"  he  said,  turning  and  facing  Dor- 
othy, "the  great  thing  that  we  have  both  to  do  is  to 
keep  this  terrible  disease  from  spreading.  One  or 
two  of  the  servants  have  been  with  the  case  from 
the  first;  the  father  and  mother  have  been  in  and 
out  of  the  room  as  freely  and  unconstrainedly  as  if 
the  child  had  only  a  cold  the  matter  with  her;  if 
they  are  likely  to  take  the  infection,  the  mischief  is 
probably  done  already ;  but,  on  the  chance  of  this  not 
being  so,  I  shall  beg  of  the  squire  to  come  into  this 
part  of  the  house  as  seldom  as  possible.  And  as  to 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  41 

Mrs.  Harvey,  she  must  be  got  away;  that  is  your 
task,  nurse.  You  will  allow  me  to  call  you  nurse, 
won't  you  ?" 

"Certainly.  Call  me  Nurse  Dorothy;  I  like  that 
name  best.  I  am  called  that  by  the  children  at  St. 
Joseph's." 

"Very  well.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  a  blessing  here ; 
but  a  great  deal  of  tact  must  be  used.  The  position 
of  affairs  is  extremely  difficult." 

"I  will  do  my  best,"  replied  the  nurse.  The  doc- 
tor gave  her  another  look  o£  complete  satisfaction, 
and  they  entered  the  room  where  the  little  patient  lay 
between  life  and  death. 

A  small  cot  had  been  drawn  almost  into  the  center 
of  the  room,  the  blinds  were  down,  there  was  a  sense 
of  desolation,  and  a  heavy  smell  in  the  air. 

"Who  has  shut  these  windows  ?"  said  the  doctor 
in  a  voice  of  disapproval. 

He  went  straight  across  the  room,  drew  up  one  of 
the  blinds,  and  opened  the  window  two  or  three 
inches.  A  fresh  current  of  air  immediately  improved 
the  close  atmosphere. 

When  he  spoke,  and  when  he  and  Nurse  Fraser 
came  into  the  room,  a  fair-haired  young  woman,  who 


42  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

was  on  her  knees  by  the  side  of  the  cot,  started  up 
suddenly  and  gazed  at  them  out  of  a  pair  of  wide 
blue  eyes.  Her  cheeks  were  deeply  flushed,  her  lips 
were  parched  and  dry. 

"Oh,  doctor!"  she  said,  staggering  toward  Dr. 
Staunton,  "you  have  come  back.  What  a  blessing! 
She  is  asleep  now ;  perhaps  she  is  better." 

The  doctor  went  over  and  looked  at  the  child.  She 
was  a  little  creature  of  not  more  than  five  years  of 
age.  In  health  she  may  have  been  pretty,  she  prob- 
ably was;  but  now  the  shadowy  little  face,  the  ema- 
ciated hands,  the  hot,  dry,  cracked  lips,  were  the  re- 
verse of  beautiful.  They  were  all  that  was  pathetic, 
however,  and  Dorothy's  heart  went  straight  out  to 
the  baby  who  lay  there  in  such  suffering  and  weak- 


The  doctor  looked  at  her,  and  gave  a  significant 
glance  toward  Mrs.  Harvey. 

Dorothy  took  her  cue  at  once. 

"I  have  come  to  nurse  your  dear  little  girl, 
madam,"  she  said.  "Dr.  Staunton  has  brought  me. 
I  have  a  great  deal  of  experience,  as  I  am  superin- 
tendent of  one  of  the  children's  wards  at  St.  Joseph's 
Hospital.  I  think  you  may  trust  your  little  girl  to 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  43 

me;  but  first  of  all,  let  me  take  you  to  your  room 
and  put  you  to  bed." 

"Put  ine  to  bed !"  said  Mrs.  Harvey  with  a  laugh 
which  jarred  on  every  one's  nerves.  "I  have  not 
been  in  bed  for  nights.  I  could  not  sleep.  When  the 
doctor  tells  me  that  Freda  is  out  of  danger,  then  I 
may  be  able  to  sleep,  but  not  before — not  before." 

"Whether  you  sleep  or  not,"  continued  Dorothy, 
"you  must  come  and  lie  down.  You  are  completely 
worn  out,  and  can  do  no  good  whatever  to  the  child 
in  your  present  condition.  While  she  sleeps  it  is 
surely  right  that  you  should  sleep,  too.  Come.  I 
will  promise  to  call  you  if  you  are  wanted." 

"Yes,  dear  madam,  let  me  entreat  of  you  to  go  to 
bed,"  said  the  doctor. 

The  door  was  opened  at  this  moment  and  the  squire 
came  in. 

"Now,  Elfreda,"  he  said,  coming  up  to  his  wife, 
"you  will  go  and  take  some  rest,  won't  you?" 

She  looked  from  him  to  the  nurse,  and  from  the 
nurse  to  the  doctor,  and  then  her  tired,  bright  eyes 
fell  upon  the  little,  parched  face  lying  on  the  pil- 
low. 

"I  know  she  is  going  to  die !"  she  said  with  a  kind 


44  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

of  broken  sob.  "I  cannot  leave  her.  How  can  any 
one  dare  to  ask  me  to  leave  my  little  child  just  now  ?" 
Her  agitation  became  more  terrible  each  moment. 
She  was  evidently  on  the  verge  of  hysterics. 

Dorothy  walked  straight  from  the  nursery  to  a 
sort  of  dressing-room  which  lay  beyond.  There  was 
a  small  bed  there,  which  was  sometimes  occupied  by 
the  undernurse.  A  scared-looking,  tired  young  wom- 
an was  standing  in  this  room.  Dorothy  gave  her 
quick  directions.  "Get  clean  sheets,  and  make  this 
bed  up  immediately,"  she  said. 

The  girl  started,  but  looked  relieved  at  having  any- 
thing explicit  to  do.  She  ran  off  to  obey,  and  Dorothy 
came  back  to  the  sickroom. 

"Hush !"  she  said,  going  up  to  Mrs.  Harvey,  who 
was  standing,  shaking  from  head  to  foot  with  dry 
sobs.  "You  must  not  give  way  like  this;  it  is  very 
wrong.  Remember,  you  have  not  only  yourself  to 
think  of."  She  bent  forward  and  whispered  a  word 
in  the  young  mother's  ear.  Mrs.  Harvey  started,  and 
with  a  violent  effort  controlled  herself. 

"I  see  that  you  must  not  be  separated  from  your 
ihild,"  continued  Dorothy,  "at  least  not  at  present. 
I  am  having  a  bed  made  up  for  you  in  the  dressing- 
room,  where  you  will  be  within  call." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  45 

"  Ah,  yes,  that's  better,"  said  the  poor  lady ;  "that's 
much  better." 

"Come,  then,  at  once,"  said  Dorothy.  She  held 
out  her  hand.  Mrs.  Harvey  crossed  the  room.  She 
and  Dorothy  disappeared  into  the  dressing-room. 

In  ten  minutes  the  nurse  came  back  to  Dr.  Staun- 
ton.  "I  have  undressed  her,  and  she  is  in  bed,"  she 
said.  "She  is  very  weak,  and  in  a  terribly  nervous 
-condition;  she  ought  to  sleep  for  hours.  Will  you 
prepare  a  composing  draught  for  her  at  once  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor ;  "I  have  brought  some  med- 
icines with  me." 

He  went  out  of  the  room,  and  returned  in  a  min- 
ute or  two  with  a  small  dose  in  a  glass. 

Dorothy  took  it  into  the  dressing-room.  Mrs.  Har- 
vey's tired  eyes  were  shut  already. 

"Now,  you  are  to  drink  this/'  said  Dorothy,  rais- 
ing her  head  slightly.  "Drink  this — don't  open  your 
eyes.  Trust.  Lean  on  me,  if  you  like.  Believe  me, 
that  nothing  would  induce  me  not  to  call  you  if  your 
ohild  were  in  real  danger;  but  you  must  sleep  now 
— sleep,  and  try  to  believe  that  all  will  be  well." 

"You  comfort  me,  nurse,"  said  Mrs.  Harvey.  "You 
are  strong.  I  somehow  believe  in  you." 


46  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"You  may  do  so,"  said  Dorothy.  She  bent  down 
and  kissed  the  hot  lips.  She  absolutely  forgot  that 
she  was  only  the  nurse,  and  that  the  tired  woman  in 
the  bed  was  a  lady  of  high  position.  At  such  a  mo- 
ment as  this  they  were  only  two  women,  two  sisters. 

Dorothy  waited  for  a  moment  to  see  the  sleeping 
draught  take  effect ;  then,  drawing  down  the  blind, 
she  left  the  room,  closing  the  door  softly  behind  her. 

When  she  returned  to  the  nursery  Dr.  Staunton 
was  bending  over  little  Freda,  who  had  opened  her 
eyes  and  was  moaning  in  terrible  pain. 

"The  fever  is  better,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  nurse ; 
"the  feverish  stage  is  over,  and  of  course,  although 
we  may  expect,  and  must  guard  against,  complica- 
tions, there  is  no  reason  why  the  child  should  not 
do  well  as  far  as  that  is  concerned;  but  the  state  of 
the  throat  is  the  real  anxiety.  I  do  not  like  to  sug- 
gest such  a  terrible  operation  as  tracheotomy,  but 
if  the  child  does  not  get  relief  before  long  I  fear 
there  is  no  help  for  it,  and  it  must  be  performed." 

Dorothy  bent  down  and  examined  the  little  patient 
caryfully. 

"I  have  had  a  good  deal  of  experience  in  these 
cases,"  she  said  after  a  pause,  "and  have  found"— 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  47 

she  mentioned  a  certain  remedy  which  could  be  in- 
haled— "work  wonders,  especially  in  the  cases  of 
children." 

"I  have  not  heard  of  it,"  said  Dr.  Staunton,  knit- 
ting his  brows  in  anxiety,  "but  it  sounds  simple,  and 
I  see  no  harm  in  trying  it." 

"It  is  very  simple,"  said  Dorothy.  "I  should  like 
to  try  it." 

The  child  moaned  and  tossed  on  her  pillow. 

The  doctor  went  out  of  the  room  to  prepare  the 
medicine  which  the  nurse  had  recommended,  and 
Dorothy  called  one  of  the  frightened  servants  to  her 
side.  She  told  her  that  she  meant  to  take  the  child 
up  and  walk  about  the  room  with  her  in  her  arms. 

"While  she  is  out  of  bed  I  will  have  the  windows 
closed,"  said  the  nurse,  "and  of  course  she  must  be 
well  wrapped  up  in  blankets.  She  may  drop  off  to 
sleep  again  in  my  arms ;  anyhow,  the  change  of  posi- 
tion and  the  slight  movement  will  be  most  refresh- 
ing to  her.  Will  you  make  the  bed  and  put  on  clean 
sheets  while  I  am  walking  about  with  the  child  ?" 

The  girl  promised  to  obey. 

"It  is  very  infectious,  ain't  it,  miss?"  she  said 
suddenly. 


48          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"It  is  in  God's  hands,"  replied  the  nurse. 

There  was  a  sound  in  her  voice,  a  sort  of  thrill  of 
strength,  which  subjugated  the  girl  at  once  and  made 
her  forget  her  fears.  She  obeyed  the  nurse's  direc- 
tions with  a  will ;  and  when,  in  an  hour's  time,  Dr. 
Staunton  returned  with  the  remedy  which  Nurse 
Dorothy  had  suggested,  he  scarcely  knew  the  sick- 
room. 

The  little  child  had  been  laid  away  again  in  bed. 
Her  long  hair  was  combed  away  from  her  pale,  worn 
face.  Dorothy  had  plaited  it  neatly;  the  little  face 
was  washed,  and  looked  almost  cool  compared  with 
its  old  flushed  and  weary  condition.  The  bed  was 
neat,  and  in  perfect  order,  with  snowy  sheets.  The 
tired  little  head  rested  on  a  cool  pillow.  Dorothy 
and  the  maid  had  removed  the  carpets  from  the  floor, 
and  the  room  was  sprinkled  with  a  disinfectant.  Two 
of  the  windows  were  open,  and  a  faint,  sweet  breath 
of  air  from  the  garden  outside  blew  into  the  room. 

"Why,  nurse,  this  is  an  admirable  change,"  said 
the  doctor. 

"It  is  necessary,"  replied  Nurse  Dorothy.  "There 
is  no  chance  of  recovery  without  fresh  air  and  a  cool, 
quiet,  calm  atmosphere.  I  think  Rhoda" — she  looked 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  49 

at  the  servant  as  she  spoke — "will  help  me  with  this 
ease,  and  I  should  like  as  few  other  people  as  possible 
in  the  room.  I  have  promised  Mrs.  Harvey  to  call 
her  if  there  is  any  change  for  the  worse  in  the  child, 
but  my  impression  is  she  will  soon  be  better." 

"God  grant  it !"  said  the  doctor. 

"What  a.  blessing  a  good,  properly-trained  nurse 
is!"  he  thought,  as  he  went  off  to  the  room  which 
had  been  prepared  for  him,  and  where  he  was  glad 
to  take  an  hour  or  two  of  much  needed  rest. 


CHAPTER   IV 

ALL  through  the  long  hours  of  that  day  Dorothy 
watched  by  the  sick  child.  The  child  was  on  the 
Borderland.  Her  life  hung  in  the  balance — a  feath- 
er's weight  on  either  side,  and  she  would  go  to  the 
country  from  which  there  is  no  return,  or  she  would 
become  well  again.  Dorothy's  efforts  were  directed 
to  turning  the  balance  in  the  scale  toward  life. 

Notwithstanding  all  her  care,  however,  and  all  the 
.alleviations  which  she  used,  the  sick  child  suffered 
and  moaned  terribly.  The  awful  state  of  the  throat, 
the  terrible  prostration  caused  by  this  form  of  blood 
poisoning,  were  no  light  foes  to  have  to  beat  and 
conquer.  But  unceasing  care  presently  produced  a 
happy  result,  and  toward  evening  the  high  tempera- 
ture went  down  a  couple  of  degrees,  and  the  child's 
breathing  became  less  difficult. 

"I  believe  she  will  recover,"  said  Dorothy,  look- 
ing at  Dr.  Staunton,  who  had  just  come  into  the 

60 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  51 

room.  "I  hope  you  agree  with  me,  doctor,  in  think- 
ing that  she  is  rather  better?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  doctor,  "she  is  better;  she  is 
less  feverish,  and  her  breathing  is  easier.  You  have 
done  wonders  already." 

"What  happy  news  for  her  poor  mother!  I  am 
so  glad  that  I  can  tell  her  that  the  child  is  really 
better,"  said  Dorothy.  "I  want  to  induce  her  to  give 
the  little  creature  altogether  into  my  care  for  the 
present,  and  not  to  come  near  her  again  unless  a 
change  for  the  worse  should  set  in.  I  hear  Mrs.  Har- 
vey stirring  now  in  the  next  room,  so  she  may  be  in 
at  any  moment.  May  I  speak  to  her,  doctor?  Do 
you  give  me  leave  to  tell  her  that  her  child  is  on 
the  mend,  and  that  you  would  rather  she  kept  out 
of  the  room?" 

"I  would  do  anything  in  the  world  to  keep  her 
out  of  the  room,"  said  the  doctor.  "Yes,  I  give  you 
full  leave  to  say  what  you  please.  You  would  have 
more  influence  with  her  than  I  should  have.  I  am 
almost  as  great  a  stranger  to  her  as  you  are.  Use 
your  strongest  influence,  nurse — do  what  you  can.  I 
believe  in  you.  I  am  sure  she  will  do  the  same." 

"I'll  go  into  the  day  nursery  and  wash  my  hands 
before  I  see  Mrs.  Harvey,"  said  Dorothy. 


52          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

She  was  scarcely  a  moment  away.  In  a  couple  of 
minutes  she  was  standing  by  Mrs.  Harvey's  bed. 

Exhausted  by  her  days  and  nights  of  watching, 
the  tired-out  mother  had  slept  all  through  the  long 
hours  of  the  day.  She  opened  her  eyes  now  with  a 
start.  Healing  sleep  had  done  wonders  for  her — 
the  dewy  look  of  youth  had  come  back  to  her  face ; 
her  beautiful  blue  eyes  were  fixed  for  a  moment  on 
Dorothy  with  a  puzzled  expression  of  non-recogni- 
tion. 

"Where  am  I  ?  What  has  happened  ?"  she  asked 
in  a  startled  voice. 

"You  have  just  had  a  lovely  sleep,"  said  Dorothy. 
"You'll  be  all  the  better  for  it." 

"And  who  are  you  ?  I  cannot  quite  collect  my 
thoughts — I  know  something  has  happened.  Who 
are  you  ?  I  cannot  remember  you." 

"I  am  the  nurse  who  is  taking  care  of  your  dear 
little  girl.  She  is  better." 

"Oh,  yes;  now  I  remember,"  said  Mrs.  Harvey. 
She  sat  up  in  bed  and  clasped  her  hands  tightly. 

"It  was  wrong  of  me  to  sleep  so  long,"  she  said, 
"but  I  won't  be  a  moment  getting  dressed.  I  must 
go  back  to  the  child  at  once." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  5S 

"Will  you  come  to  your  room  ?"  said  Dorothy. 
"You  can  change  yeur  dress  there.  I  know  Mr.  Har- 
vey is  most  anxious  that  you  should  dine  with  him 
this  evening." 

"Dine  with  my  husband ! — have  dinner  ?  But 
Freda  is  ill ! — she  is  at  death's  door !" 

"She  is  ill,  undoubtedly;  but  she  is  better.  She 
is  on  the  mend.  I  am  taking  good  care  of  her.  Don't 
you  trust  me  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  trust  you ;  but  I  must  go  back  to  her. 
Don't  talk  to  me  of  dinner;  I  could  not  eat.  Is  it 
really  evening  ?  Oh,  now  I  remember  everything — at 
last  I  remember !  We  have  been  in  agony.  We  have 
lived  through  such  a  week.  We  have  been  down  in 
the  depths,  truly.  Yes!  yes!  I  recollect  it  all — my 
little  child !  my  only  little  child !  my  darling !  my 
treasure !  Oh,  nurse,  you  should  not  have  allowed 
me  to  sleep  on  all  day !  You  should  have  called  me ! 
She  may  have  been  wanting  me.  But  you  say  she  ia 

better — better ;  but  perhaps  Dr.  Staunton Oh,, 

I  am  frightened !  Are  you  keeping  anything  from 
me  ?  Oh,  my  head !  my  poor  head !  I  shall  go  mad ! 
I  shall  lose  my  senses !" 

"JSTo,  dear  Mrs.  Harvey,"  said  Dorothy;  "I  have 


54  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

good  news  for  you,  not  bad.  Freda  is  really  better 
— she  is  less  feverish,  and  her  throat  does  not  hurt 
her  so  badly.  I  don't  pretend  that  she  is  yet  out  of 
danger,  but  if  she  continues  to  improve  as  she  has 
done  during  the  last  seven  or  eight  hours  she  will  be 
oui  of  danger  before  long.  Now  I  want  you  to  take 
care  of  yourself  and  to  trust  your  child  to  me." 

"Oh,  I  cannot  give  the  child  up  to  any  one !  You 
must  not  keep  me  from  her  another  moment.  I  am 
not  a  bit  hungry,  but  I'll  have  something  to  eat  in 
her  room,  if  you'll  bring  it  to  me.  How  awfully  my 
darling  must  have  missed  me! — she  is  such  a  child 
for  her  mother.  Let  me  go  to  her  at  once — my  dear 
little  treasure!" 

"Dr.  Staunton  is  very  anxious  that  you  should 
not  go  to  her  to-night." 

"How  can  he  dare  to  keep  a  mother  from  her 
child  ?  Here !  give  me  my  dress,  will  you  ?  I  tell 
you  that  nothing  will  Keep  me  from  the  room.  I  am 
sure  you  are  deceiving  me." 

"Do  you  really  think  I  would  deceive  you?"  said 
Dorothy.  "Before  you  went  to  sleep  you  promised 
to  trust  me.  Look  at  me  now — look  into  my  eyes. 
I  have  nursed  a  great  many  sick  children — I  have 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  55 

seen  many  mothers  in  agony — I  have  never  deceived 
one.  When  the  truth  was  good  I  have  told  it ;  when 
it  was  bad  I  have  also  told  it.  I  am  not  deceiving 
you,  Mrs.  Harvey." 

Poor  Mrs.  Harvey's  dazed  and  frightened  eyes 
gazed  into  Dorothy's  strong  face.  Its  repose,  its  calm, 
impressed  her.  She  was  in  an  overstrung  and  highly 
hysterical  state.  She  burst  into  tears. 

"I  do  trust  you,  nurse,"  she  said  with  a  great  sob. 
"I  trust  you,  and  I  bless  you.  I  know  my  dear  little 
one  is  better.  Oh,  thank  God !  thank  the  great  and 
good  God !  But,  dear  nurse,  I  must  go  to  her.  You 
are  tired,  and  I  am  quite  rested  and  refreshed.  I'll 
spend  the  night  with  the  child,  and  you  can  go  to 
bed." 

"No,  dear  madam ;  I  cannot  resign  the  care  of  the 
child  to  any  one.  I  am  using  a  certain  remedy,  in 
the  form  of  a  spray,  which  no  one  in  this  house  un- 
derstands but  me.  If  that  remedy — which  has  made 
the  child  better — is  not  continued  unceasingly  during 
the  whole  of  this  night,  her  throat  will  get  as  bad 
as  ever,  and  there  will  be  no  hope  of  her  recovery.  I 
want  you,  Mrs.  Harvey,  to  sleep  to-night,  and  leave 
the  child  in  my  care.  I  wish  this,  and  the  doctor 


56          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

wishes  it,  and  I  am  sure,  if  you  asked  your  husband, 
he  would  tell  you  that  he  wished  the  same.  You  are 
not  required  to  do  anything  for  little  Freda,  and  it 
is  your  duty  to  take  care  of  yourself.  If  she  gets 
worse,  I  promise  to  come  for  you — I  promise  this, 
Mrs.  Harvey.  Now  will  you  go  to  your  room  and 
dress,  and  then  go  downstairs  and  have  some  dinner  ? 
In  the  morning  I  expect  to  have  splendid  news  for 
you." 

Mrs.  Harvey  clasped  her  hands  in  perplexity  and 
uncertainty. 

"It  is  dreadful  to  keep  a  mother  from  her  child," 
she  said,  "and  yet — and  yet " 

"And  yet  in  this  case  it  is  right,"  said  Dorothy. 
"You  must  remember  that  you  have  not  only  Freda 
to  think  of.  There  is  your  husband,  and — — " 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know ;  there  is  my  poor,  little,  unhappy 
baby ;  but  I  cannot  love  it  as  I  love  Freda." 

"Still,  you  owe  it  a  duty.  It  is  not  right  of  you 
to  do  anything  to  risk  its  life  or  your  own.  When 
it  comes  to  you,  you  will  see  how  dearly  you  love  it. 
Now,  please,  let  me  take  you  to  your  room." 

"But  may  I  not  take  one  peep  at  my  little  treas- 
ure?" 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  57 

"She  is  asleep  just  now,  and  you  may  wake  her. 
Please  let  me  take  you  to  your  room." 

Mrs.  Harvey  staggered  to  her  feet. 

"I  trust  you,  nurse,"  she  said  with  a  wistful  sort 
of  look.  "You  will  remember  your  promise  ?" 

"I  will;  nothing  in  the  world  will  make  me  go 
Lack  from  my  word.  Now  come  with  me." 

Dorothy  led  Mrs.  Harvey  away.  They  walked 
down  the  corridor  together.  The  nurse  opened  a  baize 
door,  which  shut  away  the  nurseries  from  the  rest 
of  the  house,  and  a  moment  later  found  herself  stand- 
ing in  Mrs.  Harvey's  luxurious  bedroom.  Her  maid 
was  there,  and  Dorothy  asked  her  to  help  her  mis- 
tress to  dress. 

"What  dress  will  you  wear,  madam  ?"  asked  the 
girl. 

"Anything — it  doesn't  matter  what,"  replied  Mrs. 
Harvey. 

"Yes,  it  matters  a  great  deal,"  said  Dorothy.  "You 
ought  to  wear  a  pretty  dress ;  I  think  it  is  your  duty 
to  do  so.  You  have  got  to  think  of  the  squire.  Noth- 
ing will  please  him  and  reassure  him  more  than  to 
see  you  coming  down  to  dinner  looking  bright  and 
pretty  in  one  of  your  nice  dresses." 


58  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Really,  nurse,  you  amaze  me,"  began  Mrs.  Har- 
vey, but  then  the  shadow  of  a  smile  crept  into  her 
pyes.  "I  don't  think  you  would  talk  like  that  if  you 
did  not  really  think  Freda  would  get  well,"  she  ex- 
claimed suddenly. 

"My  impression  is  that  she  will  get  well,"  replied 
Dorothy.  "Now,  please,  put  on  one  of  your  pretty 
dresses." 

"That  pink  dress  with  the  lace  ruffles,  Martin," 
said  Mrs.  Harvey,  turning  to  the  maid.  She  got  up 
as  she  spoke,  walked  across  the  room,  and  put  her 
arms  around  Dorothy's  white  neck. 

"You  are  a  very  brave  woman,"  she  said.  "You 
are  some  one  to  lean  on.  It  rests  me  to  lean  on  you — 
I  love  you  already." 

"And  I  love  you,"  said  Dorothy  in  her  simple, 
direct  fashion.  "God  has  given  you  to  me  to  take 
care  of  just  now,  and  I  fully  believe  that  your  sweet 
little  girl  will  be  spared  to  you.  Now,  I  see  you  are 
going  to  be  very  brave  and  good  yourself,  and  I'll 
go  back  to  the  child.  I  ought  not  to  be  too  long  away 
from  her." 

All  through  the  night  that  followed  the  nurse  per- 
severed in  the  remedies  which  were  slowly  but  surely 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  59 

undermining  the  awful  blood  poisoning.  Slowly  but 
surely,  as  the  hours  advanced,  the  fell  disease  lost  its 
power,  the  choking  sensation  grew  less  and  less  in  the 
throat,  the  horrible  fungus-like  membrane  became  ab- 
sorbed, and  the  child,  exhausted,  worn  to  a  little 
shadow,  dropped,  toward  morning,  into  a  peaceful 
and  natural  sleep. 

"From  my  heart  I  believe  I  have  conquered," 
thought  Dorothy.  She  sank  on  her  knees  by  the  bed- 
side. She  felt  worn  out  herself.  Never  before  had 
she  nursed  a  case  like  this.  Never  before  had  she 
gone  through  such  a  hand-to-hand  fight  with  death. 
The  child  was  far  gone  when  she  arrived.  The  diph- 
theria was  particularly  acute,  and  the  poor  little 
frame  was  already  terribly  weakened  by  the  sharp 
attack  of  scarlet  fever. 

"Another  twelve  hours,  and  nothing  would  have 
saved  her,"  murmured  Dorothy.  "Oh,  I  thank  Thee, 
my  God — I  thank  Thee  for  this  mercy!  Oh,  what 
a  joy  it  is  to  feel  that  I  can  give  this  child  back  to 
her  mother!" 

Dorothy  remained  by  the  bedside.  Her  head  was 
bowed  on  her  hands.  Some  one  touched  her  on  the 
shoulder.  She  looked  up,  and  met  the  keen  eyes  of 


60  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Dr.  Staunton,  who  was  looking  dreadfully  pale  and 
tired  himself. 

"See,"  said  Dorothy,  rising  and  pointing  to  the 
child,  "she  is  not  feverish  now ;  she  sleeps  sweetly." 

"She  will  recover,"  said  the  doctor.  "Thank  the 
Almighty !" 

"I  believe  she  will  certainly  recover,"  replied  Dor- 
othy. 

"It  is  your  doing,  nurse." 

"With  God's  blessing,"  she  answered,  bowing  her 
head. 

The  doctor  asked  her  one  or  two  more  questions. 

"Now,  the  thing  is,  to  keep  up  her  strength,"  said 
Dorothy  in  conclusion.  "She  must  have  every  im- 
aginable form  of  nourishment.  But  that  can  be  done, 
for  I  mean  to  undertake  the  management  of  her  food 
myself.  Please,  Dr.  Staunton,  will  you  tell  Mrs. 
Harvey  the  good  news  that  her  child  is  out  of  dan- 


"Yes,"  said  the  doctor ;  "but  ought  not  that  to  be 
your  own  reward  ?" 

"No!  no!  I  don't  want  to  go  near  her.  I  wish 
you  to  do  all  in  your  power  to  keep  her  from  the 
room.  I  believe  that  when  she  knows  that  her  child 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  61 

is  really  on  the  mend  she  will  be  guided  by  your 
wishes  and  those  of  her  husband.  I  have  a  kind  of 
feeling — I  may  be  wrong,  of  course — but  I  have  a 
kind  of  feeling  that  God  will  stay  His  hand  in  this 
matter,  and  that  the  plague  will  not  spread.  Now, 
the  thing  is  to  think  of  the  mother.  I  suppose  you 
will  attend  to  her  when  her  baby  is  born  ?" 

"She  has  asked  me  to  do  so." 

"Then,  don't  you  think,"  said  Dorothy,  after  a 
pause  for  reflection,  "don't  you  think  you  might 
leave  little  Freda  to  me?  I  am  willing  to  be  shut 
up  in  this  part  of  the  house  with  the  child  and  one 
of  the  maids,  a  girl  called  Rhoda,  who  has  been  most 
helpful  to  me  during  the  last  twenty-four  hours.  If 
you  are  wanted,  doctor,  you  are  on  the  spot ;  but  un- 
less there  is  occasion,  don't  you  think  it  would  be  best 
for  you  not  to  come  into  this  room  ?" 

"It  would  be  certainly  the  safest  course  as  regards 
the  mother,"  pursued  the  doctor  in  a  thoughtful  tone. 
"You  are  a  wonderful  woman,  nurse.  I'll  go  and 
consult  the  squire." 


CHAPTER   V 

ONE  day,  a  week  after  the  events  related  in  the  last 
chapter,  Dr.  Staunton  suddenly  walked  into  the  lit- 
tle parlor  where  Effie  and  her  mother  were  sitting  to- 
gether. 

Effie  sprang  up  at  sight  of  him.  Some  needlework 
over  which  she  had  been  busy  fell  to  the  floor.  A  rush 
of  color  came  into  her  cheeks. 

"Oh,  father!  father!"  she  exclaimed.  "How  de- 
lightful it  is  to  see  you  again!  Oh,  how  glad  we 
are !  Is  little  Freda  really  better  ?  How  is  Mrs. 
Harvey  ?  And — have  you  come  back  to  stay,  father  ?" 

"I  can't  answer  such  a  lot  of  questions  all  together, 
child,"  said  the  doctor  with  a  smile.  "Yes,  I  have 
come  home  to  stay.  The  fact  is,  I  am  tired  out,  and 
simply  with  doing  nothing.  Ever  since  that  blessed 
angel  of  a  woman,  Dorothy  Eraser,  came  to  The 
Grange  there  has  been  little  or  nothing  for  me  to  do. 
Yes,  that's  a  fact;  I  am  worn  out  with  doing  noth- 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  63 

ing.  I  should  like  a  cup  of  tea  beyond  anything. 
Make  it  strong  for  me,  my  dear — strong  and  fra- 
grant." 

"The  kettle  is  boiling,"  said  Effie.  "I  won't  be 
a  minute.  Oh,  it  is  delightful  to  have  you  back!" 
She  ran  out  of  the  room,  shutting  the  door  softly  be- 
hind her. 

Dr.  Staunton  went  over  and  sat  on  the  sofa  by  his 
wife. 

"At  last,  my  darling,"  he  said,  putting  his  arms 
around  her,  "I  am  safe  back  again.  You  see  that  for 
yourself,  thank  God." 

"Thank  God,  John,"  replied  Mrs.  Staunton.  "I 
have  missed  you,"  she  repeated. 

She  held  out  both  her  thin  hands.  The  doctor 
put  his  own  strong,  sinewy  hands  around  them.  He 
clasped  them  tightly. 

"Oh,  how  hot  you  are !"  she  said,  starting  back  and 
looking  anxiously  at  him.  "Your  fingers  almost  burn 
me!" 

"I  am  simply  tired,  that's  all,"  he  replied,  "tired 
out  with  doing  nothing.  I  don't  believe  The  Grange 
is  a  wholesome  place ;  it  is  big  and  grand,  and  richly 
furnished,  but  the  air  does  not  suit  me.  I  suspect 


64          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

there  is  something  wrong  with  the  drains.  The 
drains  are  probably  at  the  root  of  all  this  mischief 
to  poor  little  Freda;  but  let  us  forget  all  that  now. 
Let  me  look  at  you,  wife.  How  are  you  ?  Why,  you 
look  bonnie! — bonnie!" 

He  stretched  out  his  hand  and  passed  it  gently 
over  his  wife's  faded  cheek.  "I  have  been  thinking 
of  you  morning,  noon  and  night,"  he  said.  "You 
have  never  been  out  of  my  thoughts  for  a  nioment, 
you  and  the  children — that  dear  little  Effie  in  par- 
ticular, but  the  other  children,  too.  I  had  time  to 
pause  and  consider  during  those  days  of  waiting  at 
The  Grange,  and  I  could  not  help  remembering  that, 
if  anything  happened  to  me,  there  were  five  children 
unprovided  for — five  children,  and  you,  Mary,  with 
the  strength  of  a  mouse  in  you." 

"That's  all  you  know,"  replied  Mrs.  Staunton  with 
a  little  show  of  spirit.  "I  am  better;  I  have  made 
wonderful  progress  during  the  last  few  days.  You 
can't  think  what  a  good  nurse  EfEe  has  been — the 
most  considerate,  the  most  thoughtful,  the  most  kind 
and  clever  darling  you  can  possibly  imagine.  She 
manages  the  whole  house ;  our  servants  would  do  any- 
thing for  her,  and  the  children  love  her  so  much  that 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  65 

it  is  a  pleasure  to  them  to  obey  her.  She  has  that 
wonderful  and  invaluable  knack  in  a  woman — she 
never  teases  nor  worries ;  she  just  contrives  to  turn 
people  around  her  little  finger  without  their  knowing 
anything  about  it  themselves.  But  now  don't  let  us 
talk  any  more  about  Effie  and  me.  I  want  to  hear 
your  news.  How  is  Mrs.  Harvey?  How  has  she 
borne  the  death  of  her  poor  little  baby  ?" 

"It  lived  just  two  hours  after  its  birth,"  said  the 
doctor  with  a  sad  look  on  his  face.  "The  shock  the 
poor  mother  underwent  evidently  had  some  effect 
upon  it.  Well,  she  is  getting  on  splendidly — she 
seemed  to  know  from  the  first  that  her  poor  little  baby 
would  not  live,  but  as  Freda  is  doing  so  well,  not  a 
murmuring  word  has  passed  her  lips.  She  is  a  sweet 
young  woman,  and  I  am  thankful  to  say  I  don't  be- 
lieve she  took  a  scrap  of  infection  from  poor  little 
Freda." 

"And  the  little  one — is  she  continuing  to  get  bet- 
ter?" 

"She  is  doing  magnificently,  thanks  to  that  fine 
creature,  Dorothy  Fraser.  I  never  came  across  such 
a  woman.  If  you  only  saw,  Mary,  the  state  of  hope- 
less confusion,  of  pandemonium — for  it  really 


66          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

amounted  to  that — of  that  wretched  house  the  morn- 
ing Miss  Fraser  arrived ;  if  you  could  only  have  seen 
the  condition  of  the  sickroom,  and  then  have  gone 
into  it  two  hours  later — why,  it  was  like  stepping 
from  the  infernal  regions  into  Paradise.  The  order 
of  the  sickroom  seemed  to  affect  the  whole  house. 
The  servants  ceased  to  be  in  a  state  of  panic,  the 
meals  were  properly  cooked,  the  squire  came  back  to 
his  normal  condition,  and  Mrs.  Harvey  became  quite 
cheerful.  In  short,  except  for  the  loss  of  her  poor 
little  one,  she  seems  to  have  had  no  ill  effects  from 
the  terrible  strain  she  has  undergone.  Little  Freda 
is  making  rapid  marches  toward  recovery,  and  I  do 
not  at  present  see  the  slightest  trace  of  the  disease 
spreading  through  the  house." 

"Have  you  seen  Freda  often  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton. 

"No ;  that  good  soul  simply  forbade  it — I  was  like 
wax  in  her  hands.  Of  course  her  reason  was  a  very 
legitimate  one,  or  I  should  not  have  submitted  to  it, 
for  it  would  not  have  been  safe  for  me  to  have  at- 
tended to  Mrs.  Harvey  coming  straight  from  the 
child's  room.  All  is  now  gmng  on  well  at  The  Grange 
and  I  can  come  home  and  rest." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  67 

"I  wish  you  did  not  look  so  dreadfully  worn  out," 
said  Mrs.  Staunton. 

"Oh,  the  home  air  will  soon  pull  me  together. 
Heigho-ho !  Here  you  come,  my  good  angel,  and  the 
tea  is  more  than  welcome." 

The  doctor  sank  back  in  his  deep  armchair. 

Effie  placed  the  fragrant  tea  on  the  table,  and  pour- 
ing out  a  cupful,  brought  it  to  her  father.  She 
had  made  crisp  toast,  as  well,  but  he  did  not  care  to 
eat. 

''Thank  you,  child,"  he  said;  "I  am  not  hungry. 
The  meals  up  at  that  place  are  preposterous — noth- 
ing short  of  preposterous.  There  is  no  doubt  what- 
ever that  far  more  people  die  from  eating  too  much 
than  from  eating  too  little.  I  wonder  the  squire  has 
a  scrap  of  digestion  left — heavy  meat  breakfasts, 
heavy  meat  luncheons,  and  then  a  groaning  dinner  at 
the  end  of  the  day.  Such  meals!  and  practically 
nothing  to  do  for  them ! — for  what  has  a  man  of  that 
sort  to  occupy  his  time  beyond  what  one  would  call 
fiddle-faddle  ?  Well,  this  tea  is  refreshing ;  I  will  go 
for  a  walk  afterward.  And  now  tell  me,  Effie,  have 
you  heard  anything  about  my  patients  ?" 

"Mr.  Edwards  called  this  morning,  and  said  they 


68          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

were  all  doing  well,"  said  Effie.  "The  little  Beels 
have  got  whooping-cough,  but  I  do  not  think  any  one 
else  is  ill.  Of  course,  poor  Mrs.  Watson  is  much  as 
usual,  but  hers  is  a  chronic  case." 

"Ah,  yes,  poor  soul !"  The  doctor  gave  an  appre- 
hensive glance  toward  his  wife.  "I  cannot  call  to 
see  Mrs.  Watson  for  a  day  or  two,"  he  said ;  "not  that 
there  is  the  least  scrap  of  infection,  for  I  changed 
everything  before  I  came  home,  but  in  her  state  it 
would  not  do  to  make  her  feel  nervous.  Well,  wife 
and  daughter,  it  is  good  to  see  you  both  again;  and 
now  I  am  going  out  for  a  stroll." 

The  doctor  left  the  room.  Effie  stood  by  the  table. 
She  was  putting  back  his  empty  cup  on  the  tray  and 
preparing  to  take  the  things  into  the  kitchen,  when 
her  mother  spoke. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  your  father  ?"  she  said 
in  a  husky  voice. 

Effie  slightly  turned  her  back.  "He  is  just  tired," 
she  answered,  "that's  all." 

"Put  down  that  tray,  Effie,  and  come  here,"  said 
her  mother. 

Effie  obeyed. 

"Yes,  mother,"  she  said.  "Now,  mother,  darling, 
you  are  not  going  to  get  nervous  ?" 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  69 

"No!  no!  I  am  not  nervous,"  said  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton.  Her  lips  trembled  slightly.  "I  am  not  nervous. 
Nothing  shall  make  me  show  nervousness  or  weak- 
ness of  any  sort  in  a  time  of  real  extremity.  But, 
Effie,  child,  I  know  something." 

"What  in  the  world  do  you  know,  mother  ?"  Effie 
tried  to  smile. 

"Your  father  is  ill.  The  unimportant  people  have 
escaped,  but  he  has  taken  this  complaint.  He  is  ill, 
Effie— I  know  it." 

"Now,  mother,  is  that  likely  ?"  said  Effie.  "Father 
comes  home  tired,  he  has  gone  through  a  great  deal 
of  anxiety — has  he  not  all  his  life  been  exposed  to 
infection  of  all  kinds?  Why  should  he  be  ill  now? 
Besides,  if  he  were  ill  he  would  say  so.  Mother,  dar- 
ling, I  cannot  listen  to  this  kind  of  talk." 

"All  right,  my  dear,  I  will  say  no  more.  It  some- 
times happens  so,  Effie.  Lives  we  think  of  no  ac- 
count are  spared — spared  on  indefinitely.  The  one 
life  on  which  so  many  others  hang  is  taken." 

"Mother,  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"I  understand  myself,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton.  "I 
know  what  I  fear.  Nay,  I  do  not  fear  it — I  rise 
up  with  strength  to  meet  it.  You  will  see,  Effie, 


70          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

'dear,  that  your  mother  is  no  coward  in  any  real  dan- 
ger." 

"You  are  a  dear,"  said  Effie.  "You  are  the  best 
and  most  unselfish  mother  in  the  world.  I  feel 
ashamed  of  myself  when  I  see  how  bravely  you  strug- 
gle against  the  weakness  and  the  anxiety  which  must 
be  yours,  more  or  less,  always.  But  now,  mother, 
dear,  you  will  not  look  trouble  in  the  face  before  it 
comes — you  will  not  meet  it  half  way.  If  you  are 
really  better,  come  out  into  the  garden,  and  we  will 
take  a  turn  before  dinner." 

"Very  well,  my  dear." 

"I  want  to  show  you  the  sweetpeas  that  have  come 
up  in  the  south  border,"  continued  Effie.  "Come, 
let  us  talk  of  pleasant  things,  and  be  cheerful  when 
father  comes  home." 

"Oh,  I  will  be  perfectly  cheerful,"  said  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton. 

She  went  into  the  good-sized  garden  at  the  back 
of  the  little  cottage  and  began  with  nervous,  ener- 
getic fingers  to  pick  some  flowers,  and  to  arrange 
them  in  a  big  nosegay. 

"We  will  put  these  in  the  center  of  the  supper- 
table,"  she  said.  "I  should  like  to  have  everything 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  71 

as  bright  and  cheerful  as  possible  for  your  father 
to-night." 

"Yes,  that's  capital,"  said  Effie. 

"We  ought  to  have  something  particularly  good 
for  him  to  eat,  Effie." 

"But,  mother,  he  said  he  wasn't  hungry.  You 
remember  how  he  complained  of  having  so  many 
meals  at  The  Grange." 

"Yes!  yes!  He  always  was  a  most  abstemious 
man ;  but  I  know  what  he  never  can  resist,  and  that 
is  cold  raspberry  tart  and  cream.  There  are  plenty 
of  raspberries  ripe  in  the  plantation — I  will  gather 
some,  and  I'll  make  the  pastry  for  the  tart  myself." 

"Very  well,  mother;  but  is  it  well  for  you  to  fag 
yourself  picking  those  raspberries,  and  then  making 
the  tart?" 

"I  want  to  make  it — I  should  love  to  make  it.  I 
used  to  be  famed  for  my  pastry.  My  mother  used 
to  say,  'You  have  a  light  hand  for  pastry,  Mary.'  I 
remember  so  well  when  I  made  my  first  tart.  I  was 
just  fifteen — it  was  my  fifteenth  birthday.  Mother 
showed  me  how  to  do  it;  and  I  remember  how  the 
water  ran  all  over  the  pastryboard.  Afterward  I 
was  the  best  hand  at  pastry  in  the  house.  Yes,  I'll 


72          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

make  the  tart  myself.  Here  is  sixpence,  Effie;  run 
to  the  dairy  and  get  some  cream.  And  listen,  love! 
As  you  go  through  the  house  you  might  tell  Jane 
to  get  the  pastryboard  ready." 

"All  right,  mother,  I'll  tell  her  to  put  it  in  the 
larder.  You  must  not  go  into  the  hot  kitchen  to 
make  that  tart." 

"Very  well,  child;  I'll  remember.  Now  run  and 
get  the  cream." 

Effie  left  her  mother  standing  by  the  raspberry 
plantation.  She  was  pulling  the  ripe  raspberries  and 
dropping  them  into  a  large  cabbage  leaf  which  she 
held.  Her  slender  but  weak  figure  was  drawn  up  to 
its  full  height.  There  was  a  look  of  nervous  energy 
about  her  which  Effie  had  not  observed  for  many 
a  long  day.  The  curious  phase  into  which  her  mother 
had  entered  had  an  alarming  effect  upon  the  young 
girl.  It  frightened  her  far  more  than  her  father's 
look  of  lassitude  and  the  burning  touch  of  his  hands. 
She  tried  to  turn  her  thoughts  from  it.  After  all, 
why  should  she  become  nervous  herself,  and  meet 
trouble  half  way  ? 

She  went  across  the  village  street,  and  entering 
the  dairy,  asked  for  the  cream. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  73 

"Is  it  true,  Miss  Staunton,  that  the  doctor  has 
come  back  again  ?"  asked  the  woman  of  the  shop,  as 
she  handed  Effie  the  jug  of  cream  across  the  counter. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Pattens,  it  is  quite  true,"  replied  Effie. 
"There's  good  news  now  at  The  Grange.  Mrs.  Har- 
vey is  doing  splendidly,  and  little  Freda  is  nearly 
well  again." 

"Well,  it  is  a  good  thing  the  doctor  can  be  spared," 
said  the  woman.  "We  want  him  bad  enough  here, 
and  it  seemed  cruel  like  that  he  should  have  been  sort 
of  buried  alive  at  The  Grange." 

"He  is  only  able  to  be  spared  now,"  said  Effie, 
"because  he  has  secured  the  services  of  a  very  won- 
derful nurse." 

"Oh,  one  of  the  Eraser  girls,"  said  the  woman  in 
a  tone  of  contempt,  "those  newcomers,  who  have  not 
been  settled  in  the  place  above  a  year.  For  my  part, 
I  don't  hold  with  lady  nurses.  I  am  told  they  are 
all  stuck  up  and  full  of  airs,  and  that  they  need  a"4 
sight  more  waiting  on  than  the  patients  themselves. 
When  you  get  a  lady  nurse  into  the  house  you  have 
to  think  more  of  the  nurse  than  of  the  patient,  that's 
what  I  am  told." 

"It  is  not  true,"  replied  Effie,  her  eye?  flashing 


74  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

angrily;  "at  least,"  she  continued,  "it  is  not  true  in 
the  case  of  Nurse  Eraser.  You  must  get  my  father 
to  talk  to  you  about  her  some  day.  I  am  afraid  I 
haven't  time  to  spare  now.  Good-evening,  Mrs.  Pat- 
tens." 

Effie  went  home  with  her  jug  of  cream.  Mrs. 
Staunton  was  still  in  the  larder,  making  the  rasp- 
berry tart.  Effie  went  and  watched  her,  as  her  long, 
thin  fingers  dabbled  in  the  flour,  manipulated  the 
roller,  spread  out  the  butter,  and  presently  produced 
a  light  puff  paste,  which,  as  Effie  expressed  it,  looked 
almost  as  if  you  could  blow  it  away. 

"That's  the  best  raspberry  tart  I  have  ever  made," 
said  Mrs.  Staunton.  "Now  we  will  put  it  in  the 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE  raspberry  tart  was  put  in  the  oven,  and  Mrs. 
Staunton  went  upstairs  to  her  own  room. 

She  was  a  woman  who,  as  a  rule,  utterly  disre- 
garded dress.  She  gave  but  little  thought  to  her  per- 
sonal appearance.  Like  many  other  women  of  the 
middle  class,  she  had  sunk  since  her  marriage  from 
the  trim,  pretty  girl  to  the  somewhat  slatternly  ma- 
tron. 

Nothing  could  destroy  the  sweet  comeliness  of 
her  face,  however,  but  in  the  struggle  for  life  she 
and  Fashion  had  fallen  out — Fashion  went  in  one 
direction,  and  Mrs.  Staunton  strayed  gently  in  an- 
other. She  did  not  mind  whether  her  dress  was  cut 
according  to  the  mode  or  not — she  scarcely  looked 
at  her  faded  but  still  pretty  face.  Now  and  then 
this  trait  in  her  mother's  character  vexed  Erne.  Erne 
adored  her  mother;  she  thought  her  the  most  beauti- 
ful of  women,  and  anything  that  took  from  her  sweet 
charms  annoyed  her. 

75 


76  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

This  evening,  however,  Mrs.  Staunton  made  a  care- 
ful and  deliberate  toilet. 

She  removed  her  dowdy  black  dress,  and  opening 
a  drawer  in  her  wardrobe,  took  out  a  soft  gray  silk 
which  lay  folded  between  tissue  paper  and  sprigs  of 
lavender.  She  put  the  dress  on,  and  fastened  soft 
lace  ruffles  around  her  throat  and  at  her  wrists.  The 
dress  transformed  her.  It  toned  with  all  her  faded 
charms.  She  put  a  real  lace  cap  over  her  still  thick 
and  pretty  hair,  and  going  down  to  the  little  parlor, 
sat  upright  on  one  of  the  chairs  near  the  window 
which  looked  into  the  garden. 

Effie  came  in  presently,  and  started  when  she  saw 
her  mother. 

"Why,  mother,"  she  said,  "how  sweet!  how  sweet 
you  look!"  She  went  over  and  kissed  her.  Mrs. 
Staunton  returned  her  embrace  very  quietly. 

"It  is  for  your  father,"  she  said.  "He  would  like 
me  to  look  nice — I  am  sure  he'd  like  us  all  to  look 
nice  to-night.  Go  upstairs,  Effie,  dear,  and  put  on 
your  pretty  blue  muslin.  And  you,  Agnes,  I  wish 
you  to  wear  your  Sunday  frock." 

Agnes,  who  had  bounded  into  the  room  at  this  mo- 
ment, stopped  short  in  astonishment. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  77 

"Are  we  all  going  to  a  party  ?"  she  asked,  excite- 
ment in  her  tone. 

"No !  no !    But  your  father  has  come  home." 

"Only  father!  What  does  that  matter?"  Agnes 
lolled  on  to  the  sofa  and  crossed  her  legs.  "I  want 
to  read  over  my  lecture  for  the  High  School.  I  can't 
be  bothered  to  change  my  dress !"  she  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  Aggie,  go  at  once  when  mother  wishes  you," 
said  Effie.  "Go  and  put  on  your  Sunday  frock,  and 
tell  Katie  to  do  the  same,  and  ask  Susan  to  put  the 
younger  children  into  their  white  dresses.  Go  at 
once;  mother  wishes  it." 

Agnes  flung  herself  out  of  the  room  muttering. 

Effie  looked  again  at  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Staunton  did  not  notice  her;  she  was  smiling 
softly  to  herself  and  looking  out  at  the  garden.  Effie 
felt  her  heart  sink  lower  and  lower. 

She  went  gravely  upstairs,  put  on  her  blue  dress, 
brushed  out  her  bright,  dark  hair,  and  looking  her 
sweetest  and  freshest,  came  downstairs  again.  Mrs. 
Staunton  was  still  sitting  by  the  window.  Her  cheeks 
were  flushed,  her  eyes  were  unusually  bright.  She 
looked  twenty  years  younger  than  she  had  done  two 
hours  ago — she  looked  beautiful.  The  soul  seemed 


78  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

to  shine  out  of  her  face.  When  Effie  came  in  she 
stood  up  restlessly  and  looked  at  the  supper  table. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "it  is  just  as  he  likes  it— the  fra- 
grant coffee,  the  raspberry  tart  and  the  jug  of  cream, 
the  new-laid  eggs,  the  brown  loaf  and  the  fresh  but- 
ter. A  simple  sort  of  meal — yes,  quite  simple  and 
very  wholesome.  Very  homelike,  that's  the  word. 
Effie,  there  never  was  such  a  homelike  sort  of  man 
as  your  father.  Give  him  home  and  you  fill  his  heart. 
This  supper  table  is  just  what  he  will  like  best.  He 
does  not  care  for  new-fangled  things.  He  is  old- 
fashioned — he  is  the  best  of  men,  Effie,  the  best  of 
men." 

"He  will  be  glad  to  see  you  in  your  nice  dress, 
mother — he  is  so  proud  of  you — he  thinks  you  are 
so  lovely!" 

"So  I  am,  in  his  eyes,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton  in  a 
wistful  voice.  "I  am  old-fashioned  like  himself,  and 
this  dress  is  old-fashioned,  too.  It  was  a  pretty  dress 
when  it  was  made  up.  Let  me  see,  that  was  twelve 
years  ago — we  went  to  Margate  for  a  week,  and  he 
bought  me  the  dress.  He  took  great  pains  in  choosing 
the  exact  shade  of  gray;  he  wanted  it  to  be  silver 
gray — he  said  his  mother  used  to  wear  silver  gray; 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  79 

when  she  sat  in  the  porch  on  summer  evenings.  Yes,, 
this  dress  is  like  a  piece  of  old  lavender — it  reminds 
me  of  the  past,  of  the  sunny,  happy  past.  I  have 
had  such  a  happy  life,  Effie — never  a  cross  word  said, 
never  a  dour  look  given  to  me.  Love  has  surrounded 
me  from  the  moment  of  my  marriage  until  now.  I 
feel  young  to-night,  and  I  am  going  to  be  happy,  very 
happy.  The  children  must  look  their  best,  too.  Kun 
up,  darling,  to  the  nursery,  and  see  that  Susan  is. 
doing  them  justice — they  are  pretty  children,  every 
one  of  them,  worthy  of  your  father.  Now,  let  me 
see,  would  not  a  few  roses  improve  this  table  ?  That 
great  jug  of  sweetpeas  in  the  middle  is  just  what  he 
likes,  but  we  might  have  roses  and  mignonette  as 
well.  I'll  go  and  gather  a  bunch  of  those  Banksia 
roses  which  grow  in  front  of  the  house." 

"You'll  tire  yourself,  mother.     Let  me  go." 
"No;  I  never  felt  stronger  than  I  do  to-night. 
I'd  like  to  pick  them  myself." 

Mrs.  Staunton  went  out  of  doors.  She  cut  great 
sprays  from  the  Banksia  rose  and  brought  them  back 
with  her.  She  placed  them  in  a  brown  jug,  and  stood 
the  jug  on  the  table.  Then  she  opened  both  windows 
wide,  and  left  the  door  ajar.  There  was  the  sweet- 


80          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

66t  smell  wafted  through  the  room — the  sweetpeas, 
roses,  mignonette,  seemed  to  be  floating  in  the  air. 

The  children  all  came  down  dressed  in  their  Sun- 
day frocks.  They  looked  puzzled,  uncomfortable, 
awed.  One  and  all  asked  the  same  question: 

"Is  it  a  party,  mother  ?  Are  any  visitors  coming 
to  tea?" 

"ISTo !  no !"  replied  the  mother  to  each  in  his  or  her 
turn.  "It  is  only  your  father  who  has  come  home, 
and  it  is  right  that  we  should  give  him  a  welcome." 

When  she  had  answered  the  last  of  the  children 
Dr.  Staunton  entered  the  room. 

He  started  at  the  pretty  sight  which  met  his  eyes. 
The  room  and  the  temptingly  laid  out  supper  table 
— the  children  in  their  best  dresses — the  old  wife  in 
her  gray  silk — looked  to  him  the  most  beautiful  sight 
his  eyes  had  ever  rested  on. 

What  was  all  this  festival  about  ?  He  drew  him- 
self up  hastily ;  a  sort  of  shudder  went  through  him. 
In  spite  of  his  efforts  his  voice  was  terribly  husky. 

"Are  we  going  to  have  company  ?"  he  asked  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eyes.  All  the  other  eyes  looked  back 
at  him.  He  knew  perfectly  well,  even  before  the 
children  burst  out  with  the  news,  that  he  himself  was 
the  company. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  81 

"You  have  come  back,  father ;  and  mother  says  we 
are  to  look  our  very  best,"  exclaimed  little  Phil. 

"All  right,  Phil,  I  am  more  than  agreeable,"  re- 
plied the  doctor.  "Now  you  must  excuse  me,  good 
folks.  I  am  bound  in  duty  to  do  honor  to  all  this 
company  splendor  by  washing  my  hands  and  putting 
on  my  Sunday-go-to-meeting  coat." 

"Effie,  you  may  fetch  the  coffee,"  said  her  mother. 

The  supper  that  followed  was  a  merry  meal — Dr. 
Staunton  told  his  best  stories — they  were  capped  by 
his  wife's.  Effie  laughed  as  if  she  had  never  heard 
them  before,  and  the  children  made  themselves  riot- 
ously agreeable. 

When  the  meal  was  at  an  end  Dr.  Staunton  and 
his  wife  went  out  into  the  garden  at  the  back  of 
the  house.  He  drew  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and 
they  walked  up  and  down  together  on  the  little  rose 
path  at  the  top  of  the  garden. 

Effie  watched  them  from  the  parlor  window.  There 
was  a  queer  lump  in  her  throat.  She  could  not  get 
over  the  strange  sensation  of  nervousness  and  coming 
disaster.  The  foreboding  which  filled  her  soul  could 
not  be  fought  down.  She  had  laughed  almost  against 
her  will  at  supper  time,  but  now  she  ceased  to  smile 


82  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

— she  no  longer  made  the  faintest  attempt  to  be  cheer- 
ful. She  hated  the  pretty  room,  and  the  sweetpeas, 
and  the  roses  and  mignonette. 

The  children  were  idly  lolling  about.  She  turned 
and  spoke  almost  crossly. 

"Don't  you  know,  Aggie,  that  it  is  long  past  the 
younger  children's  hour  for  staying  up  ?  Can't  you 
make  yourself  useful  for  once,  and  go  up  and  put 
them  to  bed?" 

"Can't  you  come,  Effie — we'd  much  rather  have 
you,"  said  little  Phil  and  Walter,  the  brother  next 
in  age.  "Agnes  is  so  cross;  she  pulls  our  hair  so 
when  she  coinbs  it  out." 

"I  don't,  you  bad  boys!"  exclaimed  Agnes,  color- 
ing high.  "Won't  I  give  it  to  you  next  time  we 
are  alone,  for  saying  that !" 

"She  does,  Effie !  she  does  indeed !"  said  little  Phil, 
running  up  to  his  elder  sister  and  clasping  his  arms 
around  her  light  blue  dress. 

"Don't,  Phil!  You  will  spoil  my  pretty  frock!" 
she  cried. 

"Why,  you  are  cross,  too!"  he  answered,  looking 
up  at  her.  He  was  so  startled  and  amazed  at  this 
new  tone  in  Effie's  voice  that  words  failed  him  alto- 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  8$ 

gether  for  a  minute.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  a  castle 
of  cards  had  tumbled  all  over  his  head,  and  as  if 
he  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  ruins.  If  Effie  were 
going  to  turn  nasty,  according  to  Phil's  idea,  there 
was  nothing  further  to  be  looked  for  in  life.  Walter, 
however,  who  was  older,  had  more  discernment  than 
his  little  brother. 

"Effie  has  a  headache,"  he  said;  "can't  you  see 
that  she  has  a  headache  ?  We'll  be  very  good,  indeed, 
Effie,  if  Agnes  will  put  us  to  bed." 

"Come  along,  then,"  said  Agnes,  scuttling  them 
out  of  the  room  in  front  of  her.  "You  must  be  quick 
about  it,  for  I  have  not  half  prepared  my  to-morrow's 
lessons.  Now,  then,  out  you  go." 

The  children  disappeared. 

The  room  was  once  more  empty  except  for  the 
silent  figure  who  stood  in  the  window.  She  could 
catch  a  glimpse  of  her  father  and  mother  walking 
up  and  down  in  the  garden.  Presently  the  two  ap- 
proached the  house.  Mrs.  Staunton  went  straight  up- 
stairs to  her  room,  and  the  doctor  returned  to  the 
parlor. 

"Your  mother  is  very  tired  to-night,  Effie,"  he 
eaid  in  a  grave  voice. 


84  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

He  sat  down  in  the  armchair  just  where  he  could 
smell  the  sweetpeas  and  the  Banksia  roses. 

"Yes,"  he  continued,  "I  am  anxious  about  her." 
There  was  not  a  trace  now  of  any  of  the  jollity  which 
had  marked  him  at  supper.  His  face  was  gray  and 
worn — his  voice  decidedly  husky.  That  huskiness  in 
her  father's  voice  went  like  a  stab  to  Effie's  heart. 
She  shut  the  door  and  went  and  stood  by  his  side. 

"Don't  you  think  you  had  better  go  upstairs  and 
.help  your  mother  to  get  to  bed  ?" 

"JSTo;  she  likes  best  to  be  alone,"  replied  Erne. 
"I  want  to  sit  by  you.  What  is  the  matter  with  your 
throat  ?" 

"My  throat!    Why?" 

"You  are  so  husky." 

"I  am  dead  beat,  that's  the  truth  of  it.  I  am 
as  weak  as  a  cat,  and  for  no  earthly  reason.  Don't 
bother  about  my  throat,  it  will  be  all  right  after  I 
hare  had  a  good  night's  rest.  I  tell  you,  Effie,  I  never 
saw  a  child  so  ill  as  that  little  Freda  Harvey.  That 
woman  who  nursed  her  is  an  angel — an  angel !" 

"I  didn't  say  too  much  about  her,  father,  did  I  ?" 
said  Effie  with  a  little  note  of  triumph  coming  into 
her  voice  even  in  the  midst  of  her  anxiety. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  85 

"That  you  didn't,  my  darling — she  is  one  of  God's- 
angels,  and  I  say  'God  bless  her!'  Now  I  want  to 
talk  about  your  mother." 

"Yes,  father,"  said  Erne,  laying  her  hand  on  his. 
She  started  back  the  moment  she  did  so.  The  eve- 
ning was  a  very  hot  one,  and  touching  the  doctor's 
hand  was  like  clasping  fire. 

"How  you  burn !"  she  exclaimed. 

"That's  weakness,"  he  said.  "I  shall  take  some 
bromide  to-night ;  I  am  completely  worn  out,  shaken, 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Now,  Effie,  don't  inter- 
rupt me.  I  wish  to  talk  of  your  mother.  Are  you 
prepared  to  listen?" 

"Of  course,  father." 

"She  has  been  talking  to  you — she  says  you  have 
got  an  idea  into  your  head  that  you  ought  to  make 
more  of  your  life  than  you  can  make  of  it  staying  at 
home,  and  being  the  blessing  of  the  house,  and  the 
joy  of  my  life  and  of  hers." 

"Oh,  father!  father!  I  did  wish  it,"  said  Effie, 
tears  springing  into  her  eyes.  "I  did  long  for  itr 
but  I'll  give  it  up,  I'll  give  it  all  up  if  it  makes  you 
and  mother  unhappy." 

"But  it  doesn't,  nay  dear.     The  old  birds  cannot 


«6          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

expect  to  keep  the  young  ones  in  the  nest  forever  and 
ever.  Your  mother  spoke  very  sensibly  to-night.  I 
never  saw  any  woman  so  altered  for  the  time  being. 
She  would  not  let  me  imagine  there  was  a  thing  the 
matter  with  her,  and  she  spoke  all  the  time  about 
you,  as  though  she  wanted  to  plead  with  me,  your 
father,  to  give  you  a  happy  life.  Do  you  think  I 
would  deny  it  to  you,  my  dear  little  girl  ?" 

"No,  father ;  you  have  never  denied  me  anything." 

"I  have  never  denied  what  was  for  your  good, 
sweetheart." 

Dr.  Staunton  clasped  Effie  to  his  breast.  She  flung 
her  arms  around  him  with  a  sudden  tight  pressure. 

"Easy !  easy !"  he  exclaimed.  "You  are  half  chok- 
ing me.  My  breathing  certainly  feels  oppressed — 
I  must  have  taken  a  chill.  I'll  get  off  to  bed  as  fast 
-as  I  can.  No,  child,  you  need  not  be  alarmed.  I 
:have  often  noticed  this  queer  development  of  hoarse- 
ness in  people  who  have  long  breathed  the  poisonous 
air  which  surrounds  diphtheria  and  scarlet  fever ;  but 
in  my  case  the  hoarseness  means  nothing.  Now,  Effie, 
let  me  say  a  word  or  two  to  you.  I  don't  know  what 
the  future  has  in  it — it  is  impossible  for  any  of  us 
ito  know  the  future,  and  I  say,  thank  God  for  the 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  87 

blessed  curtain  which  hides  it  from  our  view;  but 
whatever  it  has  in  it,  my  child,  I  wish  you  to  under- 
stand that  you  are  to  do  your  best  with  your  life. 
Make  it  full  if  you  can — in  any  case  make  it  blessed. 
A  month  ago,  I  will  admit  frankly,  I  did  not  approve 
of  lady  nurses.  After  my  wonderful  experience,  how- 
ever, with  Dorothy  Fraser,  I  must  say  that  I  have 
completely  changed  my  opinion.  The  girl  with  heart 
and  nerve,  with  common  sense,  with  an  unselfish 
spirit,  can  be  a  nurse  whatever  her  station  in  life. 
If  to  these  qualifications  she  adds  the  refinements  of 
good  breeding  and  the  education  of  a  lady,  she  is  the 
best  of  all." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Effie.  Tears  filled  her  eyes. 
"What  a  grand  triumph  for  Dorothy !"  she  exclaimed. 

"She  deserves  every  word  I  have  said  of  her.  If 
she  wishes  to  take  you  back  with  her  to  London  when 
she  goes — if  that  is  what  is  now  at  the  bottom  of 
your  heart — go,  child,  with  my  blessing.  We  shall 
miss  you  at  home,  of  course,  but  we  are  not  worth 
our  salt  if  we  are  going  to  be  selfish." 

"You  never,  never  were  that,"  said  EfBe. 

"Now  I  have  one  more  thing  to  say — it  is  about 
your  mother.  I  have  never  really  told  you  my  true 


88  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

fears  about  her.  You  know,  of  course,  that  she  suf- 
fers from  weakness  of  the  heart.  At  present  that 
weakness  springs  from  no  organic  source,  but  of  late 
there  have  been  symptoms  which  make  me  fear  that 
the  functional  mischief  may  be  developed  into  the 
more  serious  organic  form  of  disease,  should  any 
shock  be  given  her.  It  is  that  fear  which  haunts 
my  life — I  could  not  live  without  your  mother,  child. 
Effie,  child,  I  could  not  live  without  her !" 

The  doctor's  voice  suddenly  broke.  He  bowed  his 
head  on  his  hands,  and  a  broken  sort  of  groan  escaped 
his  lips. 

"We'll  take  all  possible  care  of  her,"  said  Effie. 
"She  shall  not  have  any  pain,  nor  fear,  nor  anx- 
iety." 

"I  know  you  will  do  your  best,"  said  the  doctor; 
"but  if  you  leave  her " 

"I'll  never  leave  her  if  it  is  to  injure  her — there, 
I  have  promised." 

"You  are  a  good  girl.  I  trust  you.  I  lean  on 
you.  Your  mother  could  not  live  through  an  anx- 
iety— a  great  joy,  a  great  trouble,  would  kill  her." 

"It  shan't  come,"  said  Effie. 

"God  grant  it  may  not  come,"  said  the  doctor  in 
his  husky  voice. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  89 

He  rose  suddenly  to  his  feet. 

"I  must  go  to  bed,"  he  said.  "I  have  not  had 
a  real  proper  sleep  for  nights  and  nights.  By  the 
way,  Effie,  you  know,  of  course,  that  my  life  is  in- 
sured for  a  thousand  pounds.  If — if  at  any  time 
that  should  be  needed,  it  will  be  there ;  it  is  best  for 
you  to  know." 

"I  wish  you  would  not  talk  about  it,  father." 

"Very  well,  I  won't;  but  talking  about  things 
doesn't  bring  trouble  any  nearer.  I  hold  it  as  an 
article  of  faith  that  each  man  should  arrange  all  he 
can  for  the  future  of  his  family.  Arranging  for  the 
future  never  hastens  matters.  There  is  a  God  above. 
He  has  led  me  all  my  days.  I  trust  Him  absolutely. 
I  submit  to  His  mighty  will." 

The  doctor  left  the  room — his  broad  back  was 
bowed — he  walked  slowly. 

Effie  stood  near  the  door  of  the  little  parlor,  watch- 
ing him,  until  his  gray  head  was  lost  to  view.  Then 
she  went  back  and  sat  on  the  old  horsehair  sofa,  with 
her  hands  clasped  tightly  before  her. 

"My  father  is  the  best  man  in  the  world,"  she 
murmured  under  her  breath.  "I  never  met  any  one 
like  my  father — so  simple — so  straightforward — so 


90  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

full  of  real  feeling — so  broad  in  his  views.  Talk 
of  a  sequestered  life  making  a  man  narrower;  there 
never  was  a  man  more  open  to  real  conviction  than 
father.  The  fact  is,  no  girl  ever  had  better  parents 
than  I  have;  and  the  wonderful  thing  is,  that  they 
give  me  leave  to  go,  and  take  their  blessing  with  me. 
It  is  wonderful — it  is  splendid!  Agnes  must  be 
taught  to  do  my  present  work.  I'll  train  her  for 
the  next  three  months;  and  then,  perhaps,  in  the 
winter,  I  can  join  Dorothy  in  London.  Dear  father! 
He  is  nervous  about  mother;  but  while  he  is  there, 
no  harm  can  come  to  her.  I  do  not  believe  one  could 
live  without  the  other.  Well,  well,  I  feel  excited  and 
nervous  myself.  I  had  better  follow  father's  exam- 
ple and  go  to  bed." 


CHAPTER   VII 

EFFIE'S  little  room  faced  the  east.  She  never  drew 
down  her  blind  at  night,  and  the  sun  was  shining 
all  over  her  face  when  her  mother  came  in  the  next 
morning  to  call  her. 

Mrs.  Staunton,  standing  in  her  nightdress,  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  called  Erne  in  a  shrill  voice. 

"What  in  the  world  is  the  matter  ?"  said  her  daugh- 
ter, sitting  up  and  pushing  back  her  hair  from  her 
eyes. 

"What  I  feared,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton.  "I  am  not 
going  to  break  down — don't  think  it  for  a  minute. 
I  am  as  well  as  possible."  She  trembled  all  over 
as  she  spoke.  There  was  a  purple  spot  on  one  cheek, 
the  other  was  deadly  pale.  A  blue  tint  surrounded 
her  lips.  "I  am  perfectly  well,"  continued  Mrs. 
Staunton,  breathing  in  a  labored  way.  "It  is  only 

that  I  have  got  a  bit  of  a Your  father  is  ill, 

Effie.  He  has  got  it — the  dip — dip — diphtheria !  He 
is  almost  choking.  Get  up,  child !  Get  up !" 

91 


92          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Yes,  mother,"  said  Effie. 

She  tumbled  out  of  bed.  Her  pretty  cheeks  were 
flushed  with  sleep;  her  eyes,  bright  and  shining, 
turned  toward  the  eastern  light  for  a  moment. 

"Oh,  mother!"  she  said  with  a  sudden  burst  of 
feeling,  "do,  do  let  us  keep  up  our  courage!  Noth- 
ing will  save  him  if  we  lose  our  courage,  mother !" 

"We  won't,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton ;  "and  that's  what 
I  came  to  speak  about.  He  must  have  good  nursing 
— the  very  best.  Effie,  I  want  you  to  get  Miss  Fraser 
to  come  here." 

"Miss  Eraser!  But  will  she  leave  little  Freda 
Harvey  ?" 

"She  must  leave  her — the  child  is  completely  out 
of  danger — any  one  can  nurse  her  now.  She  must 
leave  her  and  come  here,  and  you  must  go  and  fetch 
her.  Your  father  may  lose  his  life  in  the  cause  of 
that  little  child.  There  is  not  a  moment  to  lose — 
get  up,  Effie!  You  can  go  at  once  to  The  Grange. 
Go !  go  quickly,  and  bring  Dorothy  Fraser !  We  none 
of  us  can  nurse  him  as  she  will.  She  will  do  it.  He 
has  been  murmuring  in  his  sleep  about  her,  about 
something  she  did  for  little  Freda,  clasping  his  throat 
all  the  time  and  suffocating.  One  glance  showed  me 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  93 

what  ailed  him  when  I  awoke  this  morning.  He 
has  a  hard  fight  before  him,  but  he  must  not  die — 
I  tell  you,  child,  your  father  must  not  die!" 

"No!  no!  mother!  God  will  spare  him  to  us/' 
said  Effie.  Tears  dimmed  her  eyes.  She  got  quickly 
into  her  clothes. 

"Now  I  will  go,"  she  said.  "I  will  bring  Dorothy 
back  with  me." 

"If  there  is  any  difficulty,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton, 
"if  she  hesitates  for  a  moment,  you  must  remember 
there  is  only  one  thing  to  be  done." 

"Yes,  mother.    What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"You  must  offer  to  nurse  Freda  Harvey,  instead 
of  her.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

"And  I  am  not  to  come  back  to  father  when  he 
is  ill  ?"  said  Effie,  aghast. 

"That  is  not  the  point!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton. "The  only  thing  to  be  considered  is,  what  will 
save  him,  and  you  and  I,  and  our  feelings,  are  of  no 
consequence.  His  life  is  so  valuable  that  no  sacri- 
fice is  too  great  to  keep  it.  Go,  child! — go!  If  you 
can  come  back,  come — if  not,  stay." 

"And  who  will  manage  the  children  ?  They  ought 
not  to  remain  in  the  house." 


94          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Don't  worry  about  the  children.  Get  Dorothy 
as  quickly  as  possible." 

Effie  buttoned  her  dress  and  pinned  on  her  hat, 
and  then  went  out  on  the  landing. 

<rWhere  are  you  going,  child  ?  Why  don't  you  go 
downstairs  ?" 

"I  must  kiss  father  first." 

"What  folly!    Why  should  there  be  this  delay?" 

"I  won't  be  a  minute." 

Effie  turned  the  handle  of  the  bedroom  door  and 
went  softly  into  the  room.  Her  father  was  lying  on 
his  back — there  was  a  livid  look  about  his  face.  Great 
beads  of  perspiration  stood  on  his  brow.  His  eyes 
were  closed.  He  did  not  see  Effie  when  she  came 
into  the  room,  but  when  she  bent  down  and  kissed 
his  forehead  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  at  her. 
He  said  something  which  she  could  not  distinguish 
— he  was  too  hoarse  to  make  any  words  articulate. 

"I  am  going  for  Dorothy,"  she  said  with  a  smile. 
"She'll  soon  make  you  better.  Good-by.  God  bless 
you !  Father,  I  love  you — father,  I  love  you !" 

His  eyes  smiled  at  her,  but  his  lips  could  not 
speak. 

She  went  quickly  out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

IT  did  not  take  Effie  long  to  harness  the  old  horse 
to  the  gig.  She  had  often  driven  old  Jock,  and  this 
part  of  her  task  did  not  put  her  out  in  the  least. 
She  had  a  curious  sense,  as  she  was  driving  toward 
The  Grange  in  the  fresh,  early  morning  air,  of  the 
complete  change  which  was  awaiting  her.  She  was 
quite  certain  that  one  door  in  her  life  was  shut — 
shut  forever.  She  had  longed  for  a  change — it  had 
come  at  last  with  a  vengeance;  it  was  horrible — it 
made  her  shudder. 

Effie  was  a  thoroughly  healthy  girl,  healthy  both 
in  mind  and  body,  but  now  a  sick  pain  was  over  her. 
She  did  not  care  to  think  of  the  real  terror  which 
haunted  her.  She  arrived  at  The  Grange  between 
six  and  seven  o'clock.  The  woman  at  the  lodge  ran 
out  and  opened  the  gate  for  the  doctor's  gig  in  some 
surprise.  She  thought  something  was  wrong  again 
up  at  the  house;  but  her  surprise  strengthened  to  as- 
96 


96  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

tonishment  when  she  saw  that  Effie  was  driving  the 
horse. 

"Why,  Miss  Effie,  what  is  the  matter?"  she  ex- 
claimed. Every  one  in  the  place  knew  Effie,  and 
loved  her  for  her  father's  sake. 

"The  doctor  is  ill,  Mrs.  Jones,"  said  Effie,  "and 
I  have  come  to  fetch  Miss  Fraser." 

"Oh,  God  help  us !  He  hasn't  taken  it  3"  said  the 
woman,  falling  back  a  step  or  two  in  horror. 

Effie  nodded  her  head — she  had  no  words  to  speak. 
She  whipped  up  Jock,  and  drove  quickly  down  the 
avenue. 

A  kitchen  maid  was  on  her  knees,  whitening  and 
polishing  the  front  steps.  Effie  jumped  from  the  gig 
and  asked  the  girl  to  call  some  one  to  hold  the  horse. 

"There  ain't  any  men  around  just  now;  it  is  too 
early,"  said  the  girl. 

"Then  take  the  reins  yourself,"  said  Effie.  "Stand 
just  here;  Jock  won't  stir  if  I  tell  him  to  be  quiet. 
Hold  the  reins,  I  am  in  a  great  hurry." 

"You  are  Miss  Effie  Staunton,  ain't  you,  miss  ?" 

"I  am.    My  father  is  ill,  and  I  want  Miss  Eraser." 

"God  help  us !  the  doctor  ill !"  exclaimed  the  girl. 

She  stood  where  Effie  told  her,  holding  Jock's 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  97 

"Be  quiet,  Jock ;  don't  stir  till  I  come  out,"  said 
Effie.  The  old  horse  drooped  his  head.  Effie  ran 
up  the  steps  and  into  the  house.  She  had  never  been 
at  The  Grange  before,  but  she  had  no  eyes  for  the 
beauties  of  the  old  place  this  morning.  There  was 
something  too  awful  lying  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart 
for  any  external  things  to  affect  her.  She  went 
quickly  up  the  broad  front  stairs  and  paused  on  the 
first  landing.  How  was  she  to  discover  the  room 
where  Dorothy  and  little  Freda  Harvey  spent  their 
time  together?  She  was  about  to  turn  back  in  utter 
bewilderment,  when,  to  her  relief,  she  saw  another 
servant.  The  servant  stopped  and  stared  at  Effie. 
Effie  went  up  to  her  quickly. 

"You  may  be  surprised  to  see  me  here,"  she  said. 
"I  am  Miss  Staunton — Dr.  Staunton's  daughter.  He 
is  ill.  I  want  to  see  Nurse  Eraser  immediately.  Take 
me  to  her  at  once." 

"We  are  none  of  us  allowed  near  that  part  of  the 
house,  miss,"  replied  the  woman. 

"You  can  take  me  in  the  direction,  anyhow,  and 
explain  to  me  how  I  am  to  get  to  Miss  Eraser,"  said 
Effie.  "Come!  There's  not  an  instant  to  lose — be 
quick !" 


98  A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Oh,  yes,  I  can  take  you  in  the  direction,"  said 
the  girl. 

She  turned  down  a  corridor;  Effie  followed  her. 
The  servant  walked  rather  slowly  and  in  a  dubious 
sort  of  way. 

"Can't  you  hurry?"  said  Effie.  "It  is  a  matter 
of  life  and  death !" 

The  girl  hastened  her  steps  a  little.  Effie's  man- 
ner frightened  her.  Presently  they  reached  a  baize 
door.  The  servant  pushed  it  open,  but  stood  aside 
herself. 

"It  is  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth  to  open  this 
door,"  she  said.  "It  is  here  the  infectious  case  is, 
and  Miss  Eraser's  own  orders  are  that  the  door  is 
not  to  be  opened ;  but  you  frighten  me  somehow,  miss, 
and  I  suppose  there's  no  harm  in  it." 

"No,  of  course  there  is  no  harm.  Now  tell  me 
which  is  Miss  Eraser's  room." 

"The  nurseries  are  entered  by  the  third  door  as 
you  go  down  that  passage,  miss." 

The  servant  banged  to  the  baize  door,  and  Effie 
found  herself  alone.  She  ran  down  the  passage  and 
opened  the  outer  nursery  door.  It  was  quiet  and 
still,  in  perfect  order,  the  blinds  down,  and  the  win- 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND  99 

dows  open.  Effie,  in  spite  of  all  her  agitation,  walked 
on  tiptoe  across  this  room.  A  door  which  led  into 
another  room  was  half  open,  and  she  heard  some  one 
moving  about.  That  step,  so  quiet  and  self-possessed, 
must  belong  to  Dorothy. 

"Dorothy !  Dorothy !    Come  here !"  called  Erne. 

Dorothy  Fraser,  in  her  dressing-gown,  came  out 
to  the  other  room  at  once. 

"Effie  1"  she  exclaimed.    "Effie  Staunton !" 

"Yes,  it  is  I,"  said  Effie;  "it  is  I."  She  began  to 
unpin  her  hat  as  she  spoke.  "I  have  come  here  to 
stay ;  I  am  going  to  nurse  little  Freda,  and  you  are 
to  go  back  to  father.  The  gig  is  waiting  outside,  and 
you  can  easily  drive  old  Jock.  Drive  him  straight 
home,  and  go  as  fast  as  ever  you  can." 

"Is  youf  father  ill,  Effie?" 

"Yes ;  he  has  taken  the  diphtheria.  He  is  very  ill. 
Mother  has  sent  me  for  you.  If  father  dies,  mother 
will  die.  They  love  each  other  so  dearly — so  very 
dearly.  One  couldn't  live  without  the  other.  Go,  and 
save  them  both,  Dorothy,  and  I  will  stay  with  Freda/' 

"You  are  a  dear,  brave  little  girl,"  said  Dorothy. 

She  went  and  put  her  strong  arms  around  Effie. 

"I  will  go  at  once,"  she  said.  "But  are  you  pre- 
pared to  take  full  charge  here,  Effie?" 


100         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Yes;  tell  me  quickly  what  is  to  be  done." 
"There  is  nothing  to  be  done  now  but  simply  to 
g^e  that  Freda  doesn't  take  cold.  She  is  not  free  from, 
infection  yet,  but  she  is  quite  out  of  danger,  if  she 
does  not  catch  a  chill.  Treat  her  as  you  would  any 
sick  child.  Rhoda  is  here.  She  is  a  capital  girl, 
and  will  help  you  with  Freda's  food.  Freda  may 
come  into  this  room  for  a  little  to-day,  but  you  must 
see  that  she  keeps  out  of  a  draught.  Good-by,  Erne. 
I  won't  be  any  time  getting  ready.  I'll  send  you 
telegrams  about  your  father.  God  bless  you.  Erne  1" 


CHAPTER   IX 

FROM  the  first  it  was  a  bad  case.  The  throat  was 
not  so  particularly  affected,  but  the  weakness  was 
extreme.  All  imaginable  devices  were  resorted  to  to 
keep  up  the  patient's  strength.  Notwithstanding  all 
human  precautions,  however,  that  strength  failed  and 
failed. 

In  a  few  days  the  strong  man  was  like  an  infant. 
He  could  not  lift  a  finger,  he  could  scarcely  turn 
his  head,  his  voice  was  completely  gone.  His  stricken 
soul  could  only  look  dumbly  into  the  world  through 
his  eyes.  Those  honest  eyes  were  pathetic.  Dorothy 
was  unremitting  in  her  attentions.  She  took  com- 
plete charge  from  the  very  first.  Dr.  Edwards  came 
and  went,  but  he  gave  the  nursing  to  Dorothy.  She 
had  prepared  herself  for  a  great  fight.  She  had 
hoped  to  conquer;  but  on  the  third  day  of  the  doe- 
tor's  illness  she  knew  that  the  battle  was  not  to  the 
strong  nor  the  race  to  the  swift;  in  short,  the  good 
101 


102         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

doctor  was  called  to  render  up  his  account,  his  short 
span  of  mortal  life  was  over. 

One  evening  he  had  lain  perfectly  still  and  in  a 
state  of  apparent  stupor  for  several  hours.  Dorothy 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  on 
the  patient. 

"It  is  strange  how  much  I  admire  him,"  she  said 
to  herself.  "I  never  met  a  nobler,  truer-hearted 
man." 

"Dorothy,  come  here,"  said  the  doctor. 

She  went  at  once  and  bent  over  him. 

"I  am  going,"  he  said,  looking  at  her. 

"Yes,  Dr.  Staunton,"  she  answered. 

He  closed  his  eyes  again  for  a  moment. 

"The  wife,"  he  murmured,  "does  she  know?" 

"I  am  not  sure,"  said  Dorothy  in  her  quiet,  clear 
voice,  which  never  for  a  moment  sank  to  a  whisper. 
"I  think  she  must  guess — I  have  not  told  her." 

"She  had  better  know,"  said  the  doctor.  "Will 
you  bring  her  here  ?" 

"Ye^ ;  I'll  go  and  fetch  her  at  once." 

Dorothy  left  the  room.  She  stood  for  a  moment 
on  the  landing. 

The  task  which  lay  immediately  before  her  made 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          103 

her  spirits  sink.  She  knew,  just  as  well  as  Dr.  Staun- 
ton  did,  how  precarious  was  Mrs.  Staunton's  tenure 
of  life.  She  knew  that  a  sudden  shock  might  be 
fatal.  Were  those  children  to  lose  both  parents? 
The  doctor  was  going — no  mortal  aid  now  could  avail 
for  him — but  must  the  mother  also  leave  the  chil- 
dren! 

"I  do  not  know  what  t6  do,"  thought  Dorothy. 
"She  must  see  her  husband — they  must  meet.  He  is 
the  bravest  man  I  know,  but  can  he  suppress  his 
own  feelings  now — now  that  he  is  dying  ?  ~No  I  no ! 
it  is  too  much  to  ask ;  but  I  greatly,  greatly  fear  that 
if  he  does  not,  the  shock  will  kill  her." 

Dorothy  went  slowly  downstairs.  She  was  gen- 
erally decisive  in  her  actions.  RTow  she  trembled, 
and  a  terrible  nervousness  seized  her. 

When  she  reached  the  little  entrance  hall,  and  was 
about  to  open  the  door  of  the  parlor,  where  she  ex- 
pected to  find  Mrs.  Staunton,  she  was  surprised  to 
come  face  to  face  with  a  tall,  bronzed  young  man, 
who  was  taking  off  his  hat  and  hanging  it  on  one  of 
the  pegs  in  the  hatrack.  He  turned,  and  started  when 
he  saw  her.  He  was  evidently  unfamiliar  with  nurses 
and  sickness.  His  face  flushed  up,  and  he  said  in  a 
sort  of  apologetic  way: 


104          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Surely,  this  is  Dr.  Staunton's  house?" 

"Yes,"  said  Dorothy. 

"I  am  George  Staunton.  I — I  came  down  on 
pressing  business — I  want  to  see  my  father  in  a  hur- 
ry. What  is  the  matter  ?" 

He  stepped  back  a  pace  or  two,  startled  by  the  ex- 
pression on  Dorothy's  face. 

"Come  in  here  at  once,"  she  said,  seizing  his  hand. 
She  dragged  him  into  the  seldom  used  drawing-room. 
The  moment  they  got  inside  she  deliberately  locked 
the  door. 

"You  have  come  just  in  time,"  she  said.  "You 
must  bear  up.  I  hope  you'll  be  brave.  Can  you  bear 
a  great  shock  without — without  fainting,  or  anything 
of  that  sort?" 

"Oh,  I  won't  faint,"  he  answered.  His  lips  trem- 
bled, his  blue  eyes  grew  wide  open,  the  pupils  began 
to  dilate. 

"I  believe  you  are  a  brave  lad,"  said  Dorothy,  no- 
ticing these  signs.  "It  is  your  lot  now  to  come  face 
to  face  with  great  trouble.  Dr.  Staunton — your  fa- 
ther— is  dying !" 

"Good  God!  Merciful  God!"  said  the  lad.  He 
sank  down  on  the  nearest  chair — he  was  white  to  the 
lips. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          105 

Dorothy  went  up  and  took  his  hand. 

"There!  there!"  she  said.  "You'll  be  better  in 
a  moment.  Try  to  forget  yourself — we  have  not,  any 
of  us,  a  single  instant  just  now  to  think  of  ourselves. 
I  have  come  down  to  fetch  your  mother." 

"You  are  the  nurse  ?"  said  George,  glancing  at  her 
dress. 

"Yes,  I  am  nursing  your  father.  It  has  been  a 
rery  bad  case — diphtheria — a  very  acute  and  hope- 
less case  from  the  first.  There's  a  great  deal  of  in- 
fection. Are  you  afraid  ?" 

"]NTo!  no!  Don't  talk  of  fear.  I'll  go  to  him.  I 
• — I  was  in  trouble  myself,  but  that  must  wait.  I'll 
go  to  him  at  once." 

"I  want  you  to  go  to  your  mother." 

"My  mother !    Is  she  ill,  too  ?" 

"She  is  not  exactly  ill — I  mean  she  is  not  worse 
than  usual,  but  her  life  is  bound  up  in  your  father's. 
It  would  be  a  dreadful  thing  for  your  sisters  and 
yourself  if  your  mother  were  to  die.  Your  coming 
here  at  this  moment  may  mean  her  salvation.  I  have 
to  go  to  her  now,  to  tell  her  that  her  dying  husband 
has  sent  for  her.  Will  you  follow  me  into  the  room  ? 
Will  you  act  according  to  your  own  impulses?  I 


106          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

am  sure  God  will  direct  you.  Stay  where  you  are 
for  a  minute — try  to  be  brave.  Follow  me  into  the 
room  as  soon  as  you  can." 

Dorothy  left  the  drawing-room.  As  she  went  away 
she  heard  the  young  man  groan.  She  did  not  give 
herself  time  to  think.  She  opened  the  parlor  door. 

Mrs.  Staunton  was  sitting  in  her  favorite  seat  by 
the  window.  Her  face  was  scarcely  at  all  paler  than 
it  had  been  a  week  ago.  She  sat  then  by  the  win- 
dow, looking  out  at  her  trouble,  which  showed  like 
a  speck  in  the  blue  sky.  The  shadow  which  envel- 
oped her  whole  life  was  coming  closer  now,  envel- 
oping her  like  a  thick  fog.  Still  she  was  bearing  up. 
Her  eyes  were  gazing  out  on  the  garden — on  the 
flowers  which  she  and  the  doctor  had  tended  and 
loved  together.  Some  of  the  younger  children  had 
clustered  around  her  knee — one  of  them  held  her 
hand — another  played  with  a  bunch  of  keys  and  trin- 
kets which  she  always  wore  at  her  side. 

"Go  on,  mother,"  said  little  Marjory,  aged  seven. 
"Don't  stop." 

"I  have  nearly  finished,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton. 

"But  not  quite.  Go  on,  mother;  I  want  to  hear 
the  end  of  the  story,"  said  Phil. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          107 

Mrs.  Staunton  did  not  see  Dorothy,  who  stood  mo- 
tionless near  the  door. 

"They  got  so  tired,"  she  began  in  a  monotonous 
sort  of  voice,  "so  dreadfully  tired,  that  there  was 
nothing  for  them  to  do  but  to  try  and  get  into  the 
White  Garden." 

''A  White  Garden!"  repeated  Phil.  "Was  it  pret- 
ty?" 

"Lovely!" 

"Why  was  it  called  a  White  Garden  ?"  asked  Mar- 
jory. 

"Because  of  the  flowers.  They  were  all  white — 
white  roses,  white  lilies,  snowdrops,  chrysanthemums 
— all  the  flowers  that  are  pure  white,  without  any 
color.  The  air  is  sweet  with  their  perfume — the  peo- 
ple who  come  to  live  in  the  White  Garden  wear  white 
flowers  on  their  white  dresses — it  is  a  beautiful 
sight." 

"It  must  be,"  said  Marjory,  who  had  a  great  deal 
of  imagination.  "Are  the  people  happy  ?" 

"Perfectly  happy — rested,  you  know,  Marjory. 
They  are  peaceful  as  you  are  when  you  are  tucked 
up  in  your  little  bed." 

"I  like  best  to  play  and  romp,"  said  Marjory  in 


108          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

a  meditative  voice;  "but  then,  you  see,  I  am  never 
tired." 

"Dorothy  is  standing  at  the  door !"  exclaimed  Phil. 
"Come  in,  Dorothy,  and  listen  to  mother's  beautiful 
story." 

"Do  you  want  me  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Staunton,  stand- 
ing up.  She  began  to  tremble.  The  children  looked 
at  her  anxiously. 

Dorothy  went  straight  up  to  her  and  took  her 
hand.  "Dr.  Staunton  wishes  to  see  you,"  she  said. 
"Will  you  come  with  me?"  She  looked  anxiously 
toward  the  door. 

Mrs.  Staunton  put  up  her  hand  to  her  head.  "Good- 
by,  my  darlings,"  she  said,  looking  at  the  little  pair, 
who  "were  gazing  up  at  her  with  puzzled  faces.  "Go 
and  play  in  the  garden,  and  don't  forget  the  White 
Garden  about  which  we  have  been  speaking."  She 
stooped  down  and  deliberately  kissed  both  children, 
then  she  held  out  her  hand  to  Dorothy.  "I  am  quite 
ready,"  she  said. 

At  that  moment  George  entered  the  room.  He 
put  his  arms  around  his  mother.  He  was  a  big  fel- 
low— his  arms  were  strong.  The  muscles  in  his  neck 
seemed  to  start  out,  his  eyes  looked  straight  into  his 
mother's. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          109 

"You  have  got  me,  mother;  I  am  George,"  he 
said.  "Come ;  let  us  go  to  my  father  together." 

Mrs.  Staunton  tottered  upstairs.  She  was  not  in 
the  least  surprised  at  seeing  George,  and  she  leaned 
very  firmly  on  kim.  They  went  into  the  sickroom, 
and  when  George  knelt  down  by  his  father's  bedside 
Mrs.  Staunton  knelt  by  him. 

The  doctor  was  going  deeper  and  deeper  into  the 
valley  from  which  there  is  no  return.  Earthly  sounds 
were  growing  dim  to  his  ears — earthly  voices  were 
losing  their  meaning — earthly  sights  were  fading  be- 
fore his  failing  eyes.  The  dew  of  death  was  on  his 
forehead. 

Mrs.  Staunton,  whose  face  was  nearly  as  white, 
bent  down  lower  and  lower  until  her  lips  touched 
his  hand.  The  touch  of  her  lips  made  him  open 
his  eyes.  He  saw  his  wife;  the  look  on  her  face 
seemed  to  bring  him  back  to  earth  again — it  was  like 
a  sort  of  return  wave,  landing  him  high  on  the  shores 
of  time. 

His  impulse  was  to  say,  "Come  with  me — let  us 
enter  into  the  rest  of  the  Lord  together";  but  then 
he  saw  George.  George  had  thrown  his  arm  around 
his  mother's  waist. 


110         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Let  me  keep  her,  father,"  said  the  young  man. 
"Don't  take  her  yet ;  let  me  keep  her." 

"Yes,  stay  with  the  lad,  Mary,"  said  the  doctor. 

It  was  the  final  act  of  renunciation.  His  eyelids 
drooped  over  his  dying  eyes — he  never  spoke  again. 


CHAPTER   X 

GEORGE  stayed  at  Whittington  for  a  week ;  he  fol- 
lowed his  father  to  the  grave.  Mrs.  Staunton  clung 
to  him  with  a  sort  of  feverish  tenacity;  whenever 
he  came  into  the  room  her  eyes  followed  him.  A 
sort  of  wistful,  contented  expression  came  into  them 
when  he  sat  down  beside  her.  During  all  the  time 
George  was  in  the  house  she  never  broke  down.  At 
last,  however,  the  time  came  when  he  must  leave 
her. 

"I  must  go  back  to  my  work,"  he  said ;  "but  you 
are  coming  to  London  soon ;  then  I'll  be  with  you 
every  evening.  You  know  my  father  has  given  you 
to  me  to  care  for.  It  will  be  all  right  when  we  are 
in  London  together." 

"Yes,  my  boy,"  she  replied,  "it  will  be  all  right 

then.    I  don't  complain,"  she  added  ;  "I  don't  attempt 

to  murmur.     I  shall  go  to  him,  but  he  cannot  return 

to  me;  and  I  have  got  you,  George,  and  he  gave  me 

111 


112         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

to  you.  I  am  willing  to  stay  with  you  just  as  long 
as  you  want  me." 

It  was  late  that  night  when  George  left  his  moth- 
er's room.  Erne  was  standing  in  the  passage.  The 
brother  and  sister  looked  at  each  other.  Erne  had 
come  home  the  day  after  Dr.  Staunton's  death. 

"Come  out  with  me  for  a  bit,  Erne,"  said  her 
brother.  They  went  into  the  garden,  and  she  linked 
her  hand  through  his  arm. 

Dorothy  Eraser  had  now  returned  to  her  duties 
in  London;  the  Stauntons  were  to  go  up  to  ixrwn 
as  soon  as  ever  the  cottage  could  be  sold.  It  had  be- 
longed to  the  doctor.  George  was  to  live  with  them 
when  they  were  in  town,  and  perhaps  Effie  would  be 
able  to  follow  the  great  wish  of  her  mind.  There 
was  just  a  possibility  that  she  might  be  able  to  be 
trained  as  a  hospital  nurse.  She  looked  up  at  George 
now. 

"You  have  been  such  a  comfort  to  us,"  she  said. 
"Dorothy  told  me  everything;  and  I  know  that  if 
you  had  not  come  just  at  the  opportune  moment  we 
ahould  have  lost  our  mother  as  well  as  our  father. 
I'll  do  all  in  my  power  to  hurry  matters,  so  that  we 
can  come  to  London  before  the  winter." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          113 

"Yes,"  said  George.  He  was  a  finely-built  young 
fellow,  with  a  handsome  face.  He  was  not  the  least 
like  Effie,  who  was  dark  and  rather  small,  like  her 
mother.  George  had  the  doctor's  physique;  he  had 
great  square  shoulders,  his  eyes  were  frank  and  blue, 
like  his  father's,  but  his  mouth  wanted  his  father's 
firmness. 

"Effie,"  he  said,  "I  don't  know  how  I  am  to  bring 
myself  to  confide  in  you." 

"Confide  in  me  ?"  she  said  with  a  little  start.  "We 
always  did  tell  our  secrets  to  one  another,  but  all 
this  terrible  trouble  seems  to  have  put  childish  things 
away.  Have  you  really  a  secret,  George,  to  tell  me  ?" 

"I  don't  know  how  I  can  tell  it  to  you,"  he  re- 
plied. His  lips  quivered;  he  looked  down.  Effie 
clasped  his  arm  affectionately. 

"You  know  I  would  do  anything  for  you,"  she 
said. 

"Yes ;  I  know  you  are  the  best  of  girls,  and  you're 
awfully  pretty,  too.  I  know  Fred  Lawson  will  think 
so  when  he  sees  you." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"A  friend  of  mine — a  right  good  fellow — he  is  a 
medical  student  at  St.  Joseph's  Hospital.  I  have 


114          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

often  met  him,  and  he  has  talked  to  me  about  his 
own  sisters,  and  one  day  I  showed  him  your  photo- 
graph, and  he  said  what  a  pretty  girl  you  were. 
Somehow,  Effie,  I  never  thought  of  you  as  pretty 
until  Fred  said  so.  I  suppose  fellows  don't  think 
iow  their  sisters  look,  although  they  love  them  very 
dearly;  but  when  Fred  said  it  it  opened  my  eyes. 
Dear!  dear!  why  am  I  talking  like  this,  when  time 
is  so  precious,  and  I — Effie,  when  I  came  down  that 
day  to  see  my  father  I  was  in  trouble — great  trouble. 
The  shock  of  seeing  him  seemed  to  banish  it  from 
my  mind,  but  it  cannot  be  banished — it  cannot  be 
banished,  Effie,  and  I  have  no  one  to  confide  in  now 
but  you." 

"You  must  tell  me,  of  course,"  said  Effie.  She 
felt  hersedf  turning  pale.  She  could  not  imagine 
what  George's  trouble  was.  The  night  was  dusk; 
she  raised  her  eyes  to  her  brother's  face.  He  avoided 
meeting  them.  He  had  a  stick  in  his  hand,  and  he 
began  to  poke  holes  in  the  gravel. 

"How  much  money  have  we  got  to  live  on?"  he 
asked  abruptly. 

"How  much  money  have  we  to  live  on  ?"  repeated 
JEffie,  "I  believe,  when  all  is  collected,  that  there 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          115 

will  be  something  like  a  hundred  a  year  for  mother 
and  Agnes  and  Katie  and  the  two  little  children. 
Of  course,  I  am  going  to  support  myself,  somehow, 
and  you  are,  naturally,  off  our  hands." 

"It's  awful,"  said  George;  "it's  awful  to  be  so 
starvingly  poor  as  that !  Why,  I  get  a  hundred  a 
year  now ;  fancy  five  people  living  on  a  sum  on  whick 
I  never  can  make  both  ends  meet!" 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  George?  How 
queerly  you  speak !  You  knew  we  should  be  awfully 
poor  when  father  died.  You  are  going  to  pay  for 
your  board,  are  you  not,  when  you  come  to  us  ? — and 
that  will  be  a  great  help." 

"Yes,  of  course.  I  vow  and  declare  that  I'll  give 
mother  at  least  half  of  what  I  earn." 

"Well,  that  will  be  fifty  pounds — a  great  help. 
My  idea  for  myself  is — but "  Effie  stopped  ab- 
ruptly. She  saw  that  George  was  making  an  impa- 
tient movement.  "I'll  tell  you  another  time,"  she 
said  in  a  gentle  voice.  "You  have  something  now 
to  tell  me,  have  you  not  ?" 

"I  have — God  knows  I  have !  I  want  to  get  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  somewhere!" 

"Two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds !"  exclaimed  Effie. 


116         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

George  might  just  as  well  have  asked  her  for  the 
moon. 

"I  don't  understand,"  she  said  after  a  pause. 

"No,  and  I  never  want  you  to,  Effie,"  replied  the 
young  man.  "I  can't  tell  you  what  I  want  the  money 
for,  but  it's  a  matter  of  life  and  death.  I  thought  I 
had  made  up  my  mind" — a  husky  sound  came  into 
his  throat — "I  made  up  my  mind  to  tell  everything  to 
my  father  when  I  came  down  that  night — I  could 
have  told  him.  It  was  not  a  sort  of  thing  to  talk 
to  you  about,  but  I  thought  I  could  tell  him ;  he  died, 
and  he  gave  me  mother.  He  left  mother  with  me. 
You  know  perfectly  well,  Effie,  that  our  mother's 
life  hangs  on  a  thread.  You  know  she  must  not  have 
a  shock,  and  yet — Effie!  Effie!  if  I  don't  get  that 
two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  she  will  have  such  a 
shock,  such  a  terrible  shock,  that  it  will  send  her  to 
her  grave!" 

"I  must  think,"  said  Effie.  "I  cannot  answer  you 
in  a  moment." 

"Is  there  no  earthly  way  you  can  help  me?  I 
must  be  helped !"  said  George  in  a  frantic  voice.  "I 
have  got  six  weeks  longer — I  must  get  that  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  pounds  in  six  weeks,  or — no,  I  can't 
tell  you!" 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          117 

"Yes,  you  must  try — I  won't  help  you  unless  you 
try." 

"Well,  then — here  goes !  If  I  don't  get  it  I  shall 
hive  to  go  to — prison!"  George's  voi«e  sank  to  a 
hoarse  whisper. 

Effie  could  not  suppress  a  cry. 


CHAPTER   XI 

"THEN  you  have  done  something  wrong!"  said 
Effie,  loosening  her  hold  of  her  brother's  arm  and 
backing  to  a  little  distance.  He  could  scarcely  see 
her  face  in  the  ever-increasing  darkness,  but  he  no- 
ticed the  change  in  her  voice.  There  was  an  indig- 
nant note  of  pained  and  astonished  youth  in  it.  Effie 
had  never  come  face  to  face  with  the  graver  sins  of 
life ;  the  word  "prison"  stunned  her ;  she  forgot  pity 
for  a  moment  in  indignation. 

"George,"  she  said  with  a  sort  of  gasp,  "father 
left  mother  to  you — in  a  sort  of  way  he  gave  her  up 
to  you — and  you  have  done  wrong — you  have 
sinned !" 

"You  talk  just  like  a  girl,"  said  George.  "You 
jump  at  conclusions.  You,  an  innocent  girl,  living 
in  the  shelter  of  home,  know  as  little  about  the  temp- 
tations which  we  young  fellows  have  to  meet  out  in 
the  world  as  you  know  of  the  heavens  above  you. 
118 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          119 

My  God !  Effie,  it  is  a  hard  world — it  is  hard,  hard 
to  keep  straight  in  it.  Yes,  I  have  done  wrong — I 
know  it — and  father  gave  mother  to  me.  If  you  turn 
away  from  me,  Effie,  I  shall  go  to  the  bad — I  shall 
go  to  the  worst  of  all ;  there  will  not  be  a  chance  for 
me  if  you  turn  from  me !" 

The  tone  of  despair  in  his  voice  changed  Effie's 
frame  of  mind  in  a  moment.  She  ran  up  to  him 
and  put  her  arms  around  his  neck. 

"I  won't  turn  from  you,  poor  George,"  she  said. 
"It  did  shock  me  for  a  moment — it  frightened  me 
rather  more  than  I  can  express;  but  perhaps  I  did 
not  hear  you  aright,  perhaps  you  did  not  say  the  word 
'prison.'  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  unless  you  get 
that  impossible  sum  of  money  you  will  have  to  go  to 
prison,  George  ?" 

"Before  God  it  is  true!"  said  George.  "I  cannot, 
I  won't  tell  you  why,  but  it  is  as  true  as  I  stand 
here!" 

"Then  you  will  kill  our  mother !"  said  Effie. 

"I  know  that." 

"And  father  left  her  to  you!  George,  it  cannot 
be!  I  must  think  of  something — my  head  is  giddy 
— we  have  not  any  money  to  spare.  It  will  be  the 


120         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

hardest  fight  in  the  world  to  keep  the  children  from 
starvation  on  that  hundred  pounds  a  year,  but  some- 
thing must  be  done.  I'll  go  and  speak  to  the  trus- 
tees." 

"Who  are,  the  trustees  ?"  asked  George.  He  rose 
again  to  his  feet.  There  was  a  dull  sort  of  patience 
in  his  words. 

"Mr.  Watson  is  one — you  know  the  Watsons — 
father  has  always  been  so  good  to  them — and  our 
clergyman,  Mr.  Jellet,  is  the  other.  Yes,  I  must  go 
and  speak  to  them ;  but  what  am  I  to  say  1" 

"You  must  not  betray  me,"  said  George.  "If  you 
mention  that  I  want  the  money,  all  will  be  up  with 
me.  In  any  case,  there  may  be  suspicion.  Men  of 
the  world  like  Mr.  Watson  and  Mr.  Jellet  would  im- 
mediately guess  there  was  something  wrong  if  a  lad 
required  such  a  large  sum  of  money.  Yon  must  not 
tell  them  that  /  want  it." 

"How  can  I  help  it  ?  Oh,  everything  is  swimming 
around  before  my  eyes !  I  feel  as  if  my  head  would 
burst." 

"Think  of  me,"  said  George;  "think  of  the  load 
I  have  got  to  bear." 

Erne  glanced  up  at  him.     His  attitude  and  his 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          121 

words  puzzled  and  almost  revolted  her.  After  a  time 
she  said  coldly  : 

"What  hour  are  you  leaving  in  the  morning  ?" 

"I  want  to  catch  the  six  o'clock  train  to  town. 
This  is  good-by,  Effie;  I  shan't  see  you  before  I  go. 
Remember,  there  are  six  weeks  before  anything  can 
happen.  If  any  one  can  save  me,  you  can.  It  is 
worth  a  sacrifice  to  keep  our  mother  from  dying." 

"Yes,  it  would  kill  her,"  said  Effie.  "Good-night, 
now,  George.  I  cannot  think,  nor  counsel  you,  at 
present;  I  feel  too  stunned.  The  blow  you  have 
given  me  has  come  so  unexpectedly,  and  it — it  is  so 
awful !  But  I'll  get  up  to  see  you  off  in  the  morn- 
ing. Soike  thought  may  occur  to  me  during  the 
night." 

"Very  well,"  said  George.  He  walked  slowly  down 
the  garden,  and  entering  the  house,  went  up  to  his 
own  room.  Effie  did  not  go  in  for  a  long  time.  She 
was  alone  now,  all  alone  with  the  stars.  She  was 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  path.  Often  and  often 
her  father's  steps  had  trodden  this  path.  He  used  to 
pace  here  when  he  was  troubled  about  a  sick  patient, 
when  his  anxiety  about  her  mother  arose  to  a  fever- 
ish pitch.  Now  his  daughter  stood  on  the  same  spot, 


122          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

while  a  whirl  of  troubled  thoughts  passed  through 
her  brain.  It  had  been  her  one  comfort,  since  that 
awful  moment  when  Dorothy  had  told  her  that  her 
father  was  gone,  to  feel  that  George,  in  a  measure, 
at  least,  took  that  father's  place. 

George  had  always  been  her  favorite  brother ;  they 
were  very  nearly  the  same  age — Erne  was  only  two 
years  younger  than  George ;  long  ago  George  had  been 
good  to  the  little  sister — they  had  never  quarreled, 
they  had  grown  up  always  the  best  and  warmest  of 
friends.  Their  love  had  been  true — as  true  as  any- 
thing in  all  the  world. 

George  had  gone  to  London,  and  the  first  tiny 
spark  of  discontent  had  visited  Erne's  heart.  She 
would  be  so  lonely  without  her  brother.  It  was  so 
fine  for  him  to  go  out  into  life;  her  own  horizon 
seemed  so  narrow.  Then  Dorothy  came,  and  they 
had  made  friends,  and  Dorothy  told  her  what  some 
women  did  with  their  lives. 

Erne  had  been  fired  with  a  sudden  desire  to  follow 
in  Dorothy's  steps ;  then  had  followed  the  dark  cloud 
which  seemed  to  swallow  up  her  wishes,  and  all  that 
was  best  out  of  her  life.  George,  at  least,  remained 
— dear,  brave,  manly  George !  The  brother  who  had 
passed  out  of  childhood  and  entered  man's  estate. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          123 

Her  father's  last  message  had  been  to  George — 
he  had  given  her  precious  mother  into  George's  care. 

It  seemed  to  Erne  to-night,  standing  out  under 
the  stars,  as  if  George,  too,  were  dead.  The  old 
George  was  really  dead,  and  a  stranger  had  taken  his 
place.  This  stranger  wore  the  outward  guise  of  her 
brother — he  had  his  eyes,  his  figure;  his  voice  had 
the  same  tone;  he  could  look  at  you  just  in  George's 
way,  but  he  could  utter  terrible  words  which  George 
had  never  known  anything  about.  He  could  talk  of 
sin  and  prison.  He  could  propose  that  Effie  should 
rescue  him  at  the  risk  of  her  mother's  livelihood.  Oh, 
what  did  it  mean  ?  How  was  she  to  bear  it  ?  How 
could  she  bear  it?  She  clasped  her  hands,  tears 
filled  her  eyes,  but  she  was  too  oppressed,  too  pained, 
too  stunned,  to  weep  long.  Presently  she  went  into 
the  house,  and  lay  down  on  her  bed  without  undress- 
ing. 

During  the  whole  of  that  terrible  night  Effie  scarce- 
ly slept.  It  was  the  worst  night  in  all  her  life.  To- 
ward morning  she  dozed  a  little,  but  sprang  up  with 
a  start,  fearing  that  George  had  gone  to  London  with- 
out seeing  her.  For  her  mother's  sake  she  must  see 
him.  Whatever  happened,  her  mother  must  never 


124         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

know  of  this  calamity.  Effie  got  up,  washed  her 
hands  and  face,  smoothed  out  her  hair,  and  went 
downstairs.  George  was  already  up;  he  wns  stand- 
ing in  the  little  parlor.  He  turned  around  when  he 
heard  his  sister's  footsteps  and  looked  anxiously  at 
her. 

"What  a  brute  I  am!"  he  said  when  he  saw  the 
expression  on  her  face ;  "but  I  swear  before  God, 
Effie,  if  you  will  help  me,  I'll  turn  over  a  new  leaf — 
I'll  never  do  a  wrong  thing  again  as  long  as  I  live! 
I  swear  it!" 

"Don't  swear  it,"  said  Effie;  "it  seems  to  make 
it  worse  to  do  that.  If  you  did  wrong  once,  you  may 
again.  Don't  swear.  Ask  God  to  help  you.  I  don't 
know  that  I  have  been  praying  all  night,  but  I  have 
been  trying  to." 

"Well,  Effie,  what  have  you  determined  to  do?" 
he  asked. 

"Is  there  no  one  else  who  can  help  you,  George?" 

"Not  a  soul.  I  have  only  one  friend,  and  that  is 
Fred  Lawson." 

"Oh,  yes!  I  remember  you  spoke  of  him  last 
night.  Would  he  help  you  ?" 

"He  help  me!"  said  George    with    a    hysterical 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          125 

laugh.  "Why,  he  is  the  chap  I  have  wronged !  There, 
don't  ask  me  any  more.  If  you  can  help  me,  I  am 
saved ;  if  you  can't,  say  so,  and  I'll  go  straight  to 
destruction." 

"No,  you  shan't  do  that,  George.  I  have  thought 
of  something — nothing  may  come  of  it,  but  I'm  go- 
ing to  try.  It  is  terribly  repugnant  to  me,  but  I 
would  sacrifice  much  to  save  my  mother.  If  it  fails, 
all  fails." 

"I  have  thought,"  said  George  eagerly,  "that  as 
the  case  is  such  an  extreme  one,  we  might  take  some 
of  the  capital.  There  is  a  thousand  pounds ;  a  quar- 
ter of  that  sum  would  put  me  right." 

"It  cannot  be  done  for  a  moment,"  said  Effie,  her 
face  flushing  hotly.  "That  money  must  under  no 
circumstances  be  touched ;  my  mother  and  the  ehil" 
dren  depend  on  it  for  their  bread." 

"I  don't  know  what  is  to  be  done,  then,"  said 
George  in  a  hopeless  voice. 

"You  must  trust  to  me,  George ;  I  am  going  to  try 
to  help  you  in  my  own  way.  If  I  fail,  I  fail ;  but 
somehow  I  don't  think  I  shall.  If  I  have  any  news 
I  will  write  to  you  soon ;  and  now  good-by — good-by." 

George  turned  and  kissed  Effie.     She  gave  him 


126         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

her  cheek,  but  her  lips  did  not  touch  his.  She  was 
willing  to  help  him,  but  her  love,  for  the  time,  was 
dead,  or  dying. 

The  young  man  walked  hurriedly  down  the  village 

street.     Effie  stood  in  the  porch  and    ,.    ^hed  him. 

•  His  shoulders  were  bowed,  he  stooped.    George  used 

to  have  a  fine  figure ;  Effie  used  to  be  proud  of  him. 

She  was  not  proud  of  her  brother  now. 

She  went  back  to  the  house  and  sat  down,  listlessly 
for  a  time,  in  the  little  parlor ;  her  hands  were  folded 
in  her  lap.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  the  end  of  all 
things  had  come. 

Presently  the  sound  of  the  children's  voices  over- 
head aroused  her.  She  went  upstairs  and  helped 
Susan  to  dress  them.  Returning  to  the  every-day 
duties  of  life  had  a  soothing  effect  upon  her.  She 
made  a  violent  effort  and  managed  to  put  her  trouble 
behind  her  for  the  time  being.  Whatever  happened, 
her  mother  must  not  see  any  traces  of  it. 

When  the  baby  was  dressed  she  took  him,  as  usual, 
to  her  mother's  room. 

Mrs.  Staunton  sat  up  in  bed  and  stretched  out  her 
arms  to  receive  him.  Effie  gave  him  to  her  mother, 
who  began  to  kiss  his  little  face  hungrily. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          127 

"Has  George  gone,  Effie?"  said  the  mother. 

"Yes,  mother,  dear." 

"Did  any  one  see  him  off  ?  Did  he  have  his  break- 
fast?" 

"Yes,  ^Bwl  -}d  a  good  breakfast ;  I  got  it  ready  for 
him  last  night." 

"But  did  any  one  see  him  off  ?" 

"I  did." 

"That's  right ;  I  should  not  have  liked  him  to  have 
had  his  last  meal  by  himself.  I  miss  him  awfully. 
Effie,  dear,  how  soon  do  you  think  we  can  go  to  Lon- 
don?" 

"As  soon  as  possible,  mother — in  about  six  weeks." 

"Six  weeks !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Staunton.  "I  can't 
live  without  George  for  six  weeks !" 

"Oh,  yes,  you  can,  mother — at  least  you'll  try." 


CHAPTER   XH 

WHEW  Effie  had  finished  the  many  small  duties 
which  fell  to  her  share  in  the  household  economy,  she 
went  up  to  her  bedroom  and  hastily  changed  her 
every-day  dress  for  her  best  one.  She  did  not  take 
long  about  this  task.  Her  small  face  looked  very 
pale  and  thin  under  the  heavy  crepe  on  her  hat.  Tak- 
ing up  her  gloves,  she  ran  down  to  the  parlor,  where 
her  mother  was  sitting.  Mrs.  Staunton  was  busily 
mending  some  stockings  for  George.  A  pile  of  his 
clothes  lay  on  the  table  by  her  side. 

"I  thought  we  might  send  these  to  London  next 
week,"  she  said,  looking  up  as  her  daughter  entered 
the  room.  "George  will  want  a  really  warm  great- 
coat for  the  winter,  and  this  one  of  your  father's • 

Why,  Effie,  my  dear "    She  stopped  abruptly  and 

gazed  up  at  Effie's  best  hat.  "Where  are  you  going, 
my  love  ?"  she  said.  "I  thought  you  could  help  me 
this  morning." 

128 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          129 

"I  am  going  out,  mother,  for  a  little." 
"But  where  to  ?     Why  have  you  your  best  things 
on?" 

"I  am  going  to  the  Harveys'." 
"To  the  Harveys'  ?— to  The  Grange  ?" 
Mrs.  Staunton  shuddered  slightly ;  she  turned  her 
head  aside.     "Why  are  you  going  there  ?"  she  asked 
after  a  pause. 

"I  want  to  see  them — I  won't  be  long  away.  Please, 
mother,  don't  tire  yourself  over  all  that  mending 
now." 

"It  interests  me,  my  dear.  I  find  it  impossible 
to  sit  with  my  hands  before  me.  I  am  stronger  than 
I  used  to  be.  I  have  got  to  live  for  George;  and 
George  is  young,  he  is  entering  life ;  he  must  not  be 
saddled  with  an  old,  ailing  mother.  I  must  get 
strong,  I  must  get  back  my  youth  for  his  sake.  Don't 
be  long  away,  Effie,  dear.  I  wonder  you  like  to  go 
to  the  Harveys'  under  the  circumstances,  but  you 
know  best.  Children  are  very  independent  nowa- 
days," concluded  Mrs.  Staunton  with  a  sigh. 

Effie  went  up  to  her  mother  and  kissed  her,  then 
she  softly  left  the  room. 

The  day  was  a  particularly  fine  one,  the  sun  shone 


130         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

brightly  upon  the  little  High  Street.  Effie  walked 
quickly ;  she  soon  turned  into  a  shady  lane ;  the  lane 
led  her  into  the  high  road.  By  and  by  she  stopped  at 
the  gates  of  The  Grange. 

The  woman  of  the  lodge  came  out  when  she  saw 
her.  This  woman  had  been  fond  of  Dr.  Staunton, 
and  she  recognized  Effie. 

Erne's  little  figure,  her  heavy  black  dress,  her 
crepe  hat,  her  white  cheeks  and  dark  eyes,  all  ap- 
pealed with  great  pathos  to  the  woman.  She  ran 
toward  her  with  outstretched  hands. 

"Miss  Effie,  my  dear,  you're  welcome,"  she  said. 
She  caught  Effie's  little  white  hands  in  her  hard, 
toil-worn  ones.  "You  are  welcome,  Miss  Effie/'  she 
repeated.  "It  is  good  of  you  to  come.  Eh,  dear, 
but  it  goes  to  the  heart  to  see  you  in  that  deep  black ! 
Come  in  and  rest,  my  dear  young  lady — come  in  and 
rest." 

"I  cannot  just  now,  Mrs.  Jones,"  replied  Effie.  "I 
am  in  a  hurry — I  want  to  go  up  to  see  the  squire  on 
business." 

"And  how  is  your  mother,  poor  lady  ?  How  is  she 
bearing  up,  my  dear  ?" 

"Wonderfully,"  said  Effie.  "I'll  come  and  see  you 
another  day,  Mrs.  Jones." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          131 

"Eh,  do !  You'll  be  more  than  welcome.  I  long 
to  hear  all  about  the  doctor,  poor  man !  and  how  he 
went  off  at  the  end.  The  last  words  of  the  pious 
are  always  worth  listening  to.  I'll  be  glad  to  hear 
particulars,  if  you  can  give  me  half  an  hour  some 
time,  Miss  Effie." 

"Some  time,"  said  Effie. 

She  walked  on,  trembling  a  little.  The  woman's 
words  and  her  eager  look  of  curiosity  were  dreadful 
to  her ;  nevertheless,  she  knew  that  her  father,  under 
similar  circumstances,  would  have  been  very  patient 
with  this  woman. 

By  and  by  she  arrived  at  the  heavy  front  door 
of  the  old  Grange.  She  walked  up  the  steps  and 
rang  the  bell. 

The  door  was  opened  almost  immediately  by  a 
servant  in  livery.  He  knew  Effie,  and  asked  her 
in. 

"Is  the  squire  at  home  ?"  she  asked. 

"I'm  not  sure,  miss,  but  I'll  inquire.  Will  you 
step  in  here  while  I  go  to  ask  ?" 

The  man  opened  the  door  of  a  little  sitting-room. 
Effie  went  in,  and  he  closed  it  softly  behind  him. 

After  what  seemed  a  very  short  time  she  heard 


132         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

eager  steps  coming  along  the  hall — the  room  door  was 
flung  open,  and  Squire  Harvey,  accompanied  by  his 
wife,  came  in. 

Mrs.  Harvey  looked  like  a  shadow,  but  her  sweet 
face  had  a  tender  blush-rose  color  about  it,  her  eyes 
had  the  intensely  clear  look  which  long  illness  gives ; 
she  was  better,  but  she  looked  so  frail  and  delicate 
that  Effie's  heart  went  out  to  her. 

"My  dear  child/'  said  Mrs.  Harvey,  "how  good, 
how  very  good  of  you  to  come !  I  am  only  just  down- 
stairs. Dr.  Edwards  only  allowed  me  down  yester- 
day, but  I  could  not  resist  coming  to  welcome  you 
myself.  Won't  you  come  into  my  sitting-room?  It 
is  just  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  hall.  I'll  send 
Rhoda  upstairs  to  fetch  little  Freda,  She  will  be  so 
enraptured  at  seeing  you.  Come,  my  dear.  Now 
that  we  have  got  you,  we  won't  let  you  go  in  a  hurry. 
I  think  it  so  sweet  of  you  to  come  to  see  us,  and  un- 
der the  circumstances.  Don't  you  think  it  is  sweet 
of  her,  Walter,  dear?" 

Squire  Harvey  had  more  perception  of  character 
than  his  wife.  He  noticed  how  white  Effie's  face 
grew ;  he  noticed  the  pathetic  trembling  of  her  hands. 

"My  dear,"  he  said,  "perhaps  Miss  Staunton  wishes 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          133 

to  see  me  by  herself.  I  understood  from  the  servant 
that  she  had  asked  for  me." 

"Yes,  I  did  want  to  see  you  very  much,"  said 
Effie. 

"Of  course,  dear  little  thing,"  interrupted  Mrs. 
Harvey ;  "but  I'll  stay  while  you  talk  to  her.  I  am 
immensely  interested  in  you,  Miss  Staunton.  I  can 
never  forget,  as  long  as  I  live,  what  you  and  yours 
have  done  for  us." 

"Please  don't  talk  of  it  now,"  said  Effie.  "I  mean 
— I  know  how  kindly  you  feel,  and  indeed  I  am  not 
ungrateful,  but  I  cannot  bear  to  talk  it  over,  and 
I  want  very  badly,  please,  to  say  something  to  the 
squire." 

"Come  with  me  to  my  study,  Miss  Staunton,"  said 
the  squire. 

He  opened  the  door,  and  Effie  followed  him. 

"Be  sure  you  make  her  stay,  Walter,  when  your 
businees  is  over !"  called  Mrs.  Harvey  after  him.  "I'll 
send  for  Freda  to  my  boudoir.  Miss  Staunton  must 
stay  to  lunch.  It  is  delightful  to  see  her  again,  and 
it  is  so  sweet  of  her  to  come  to  see  us." 

The  thin,  high  voice  kept  calling  these  words  out 
a  little  louder  and  a  little  louder  as  Effie  followed 


134.         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

the  squire  down  one  long  corridor  after  another,  un- 
til at  last  they  entered  his  special  study. 

He  shut  the  door  at  once,  and  offered  her  a  chair. 

"If  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  you  have  but  to 
command  me,"  he  said. 

"I  see  you  are  in  great  trouble,"  he  continued. 
"Pray  take  your  own  time.  I  have  nothing  what- 
ever to  do — I  can  listen  to  you  as  long  as  ever  you 
like." 

Poor  Effie  found  great  difficulty  in  using  her 
voice.  For  one  dreadful  moment  words  seemed  to 
fail  her  altogether.  Then  she  gave  a  swift  thought 
to  her  mother,  to  George,  and  her  resolve  was  taken. 

"I  want  to  make  a  very  queer  request  of  you,  Mr. 
Harvey,"  she  said.  "It  may  not  be  possible  for  you 
to  grant  it.  For  my  father's  sake,  will  you  promise 
that  you  will  never  tell  any  one  what  I  am  now  asking 
you,  if  you  don't  find  it  convenient  to  grant  it  to 
me?" 

"I'll  keep  your  secret,  of  course,"  said  the  squire. 
"But  permit  me  to  say  one  thing  before  you  begin 
to  tell  it  to  me:  there's  not  the  slightest  fear  of  my 
not  granting  it.  There  is  nothing  that  you  can  pos- 
sibly ask  of  me,  that,  under  the  circumstances,  I 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          135 

should  think  it  right  to  refuse.  Now,  pray  pro- 
ceed." 

"I  want  you,"  said  Effie — she  gulped  down  a  great 
lump  in  her  throat,  and  proceeded  in  a  sort  of  des- 
peration— "I  want  you  to  lend  me  two  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds.  I'll  pay  you  interest — I  think  five  per 
cent,  is  fair  interest — I'll  pay  you  interest  on  the 
money,  and  return  it  to  you  by  installments." 

There  was  not  the  least  doubt  that  Effie's  request 
startled  the  squire.  The  amount  of  the  money  re- 
quired was  nothing  to  him,  for  he  was  a  very  rich 
man ;  but  the  girl's  manner,  her  evident  distress,  the 
look  of  shame  and  misery  on  her  face,  surprised  him. 
He  guessed  that  she  was  borrowing  the  money  for 
another,  but  for  whom  ? 

"I  can  see  you  are  in  trouble,"  he  said  in  his  kind- 
est tone.  "Why  don't  you  confide  in  me  ?  As  to 
the  money,  make  your  mind  easy;  you  shall  have 
it ;  but  girls  like  you  don't,  as  a  rule,  borrow  a  large 
sum  of  money  of  this  kind.  Do  you  want  it  for  your- 
self?" 

"No." 

"You  won't  tell  me  who  it  is  for  ?" 

"I  cannot,  Mr.  Harvey.    Please  don't  ask  me." 


136          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"I  won't  ask  you  anything  that  distresses  you.  As 
you  are  talking  of  money,  you  will  forgive  me  for 
saying  that  I  am  told  that  your  mother  is  left  badly 
off." 

"No;  that's  a  mistake,"  said  Effie.  "She  has 
money.  My  father  left  her  very  well  off  for  a  man 
in  his  position.  He  insured  his  life  for  a  thousand 
pounds,  and  my  mother  had  a  little  fortune  of  her 
own,  which  brings  in  about  sixty  pounds  a  year." 

"And  you  think  your  mother  well  off  with  that  ?" 
said  the  squire  in  a  tone  of  almost  amused  pity. 

"Yes,  for  a  woman  in  her  position,"  said  Effie  in 
almost  a  proud  tone.  "Forgive  me,"  she  said;  "I 
know  that,  after  the  request  I  have  just  made,  you 
would  be  justified  in  asking  me  any  questions,  but 
I  would  rather  not  say  any  more  about  my  mother. 
If  you'll  lend  me  the  money — if,  indeed,  you  will 
be  so  good,  so  noble — when  can  I  have  it  ?" 

"When  do  you  want  it  ?" 

"I  must  have  it  before  six  weeks  are  up,  but  the 
sooner  the  better." 

"You  shall  have  it  in  a  week.  Come  here  this 
day  week  and  I'll  give  you  a  check  for  the  amount." 

"A  check!"  said  Effie;  "but  I  would  have  to  pass 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         137 

that  through  mother's  bank — and — and  she  might 
know." 

"Are  you  really  asking  for  this  money  without  your 
mother's  knowledge,  Miss  Staunton?" 

"Yes;  my  mother  is  not  to  know.  Mr.  Harvey, 
the  object  of  our  lives  is  to  keep  all  anxiety  from 
our  mother — she  must  never  know." 

"Forgive  me,"  said  the  squire  after  a  pause.  "I 
know  a  great  deal  about  business,  and  you  very  lit- 
tle. Would  it  not  be  best  to  open  an  account  in 
your  own  name?  I  am  told  that  you  propose  soon 
to  go  to  London.  I  would  introduce  you  to  my 
bankers  there,  who  would  be  very  glad  to  open  an 
account  with  you;  and  if  at  any  time  you  should 
have  need  of  assistance,  Miss  Staunton,  you  would 
give  me  the  privilege  of  helping  you.  Remember, 
but  for  me  and  mine  you  would  not  now  be  father- 
less. You  must  see  that  you  have  a  claim  on  me. 
Allow  me  to  fulfil  that  claim  in  the  only  possible 
way  in  my  power." 

"You  are  good,  you  are  more  than  good,"  said 
Erne,  rising.  "But  this  is  all  I  really  need.  I'll  pay 
you  the  interest  on  the  money  every  half-year." 

"Oh,  that  doesn't  matter.  I  earnestly  wish  you 
would  take  it  as  a  gift." 


138         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Thank  you;  but  that  is  impossible." 

Effie  stood  up ;  she  had  nothing  further  to  say. 

"May  I  take  you  to  my  wife's  room  now?"  said 
the  squire.  "I  know  she  is  waiting  to  see  you ;  she 
is  longing  to  be  friends  with  you.  Her  recovery 
has  been  wonderful,  and  as  to  little  Freda — she  is 
almost  herself  again.  You  would  like  to  see  Freda, 
would  you  not  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Effie,  "but  not  to-day — I  must  hurry 
back  to  my  mother.  I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you, 
Mr.  Harvey.  Will  you  please  tell  your — your  wife 
that  I  cannot  stay  to-day? — my  mother  wants  me. 
Thank  you — thank  you." 

The  squire  himself  showed  Effie  out.  He  stood 
for  a  moment  by  his  open  hall  door  and  watched 
her  as  she  walked  slowly  down  the  avenue. 

"That  is  a  plucky  little  thing,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"Now,  what  in  the  world  does  she  want  that  money 
for?  Not  for  herself,  I'll  be  bound.  I  do  hope  she 
has  got  no  disreputable  relations  hanging  on  to  her. 
Well,  at  least  it  is  my  bounden  duty  to  help  her,  but 
I  wish  she  would  confide  in  me.  She  is  a  pretty  girl, 
too,  and  has  a  look  of  the  doctor  about  her  eyes." 

"Where  is  Miss  Staunton?"  asked  Mrs.  Harvey, 
coming  forward. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          139 

"Vanishing  around  that  corner,  my  love,"  returned 
the  squire.  "The  fact  is,  the  poor  little  thing  is  com- 
pletely upset,  and  cannot  face  any  one." 

"But  her  business,  Walter — what  did  she  want  ?" 

"Ah,  that's  the  secret.  She  made  me  swear  not 
to  tell  any  one.  It  is  my  opinion,  Elfreda,  that  the 
child  has  got  into  trouble.  We  must  do  what  we  can 
for  her." 

"I  wish  she  would  come  here  and  be  Freda's  gov- 
erness," said  Mrs.  Harvey. 

The  squire  looked  at  his  wife. 

"That's  a  good  thought,"  he  remarked;  "and  we 
might  give  her  a  big  salary — she  is  so  innocent  she 
would  not  really  know  anything  about  it.  We  might 
give  her  two  hundred  a  year,  and  then  she  could  help 
her  mother;  but  I  doubt  whether  she  would  leave 
her  mother — she  seems  simply  bound  up  in  her." 

"It  is  our  duty  to  help  her,"  said  Mrs.  Harvey, 
"whatever  happens.  If  she  won't  come  to  us,  we 
must  think  of  some  other  way." 

"Yes,  we  must/'  said  the  squire. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

IN  less  than  six  weeks  the  Stauntons  were  settled 
in  London.  George  had  taken  lodgings  for  them 
in  a  cheap  part  of  Bayswater.  The  rooms  were  high 
up  in  a  dismal  sort  of  house.  There  were  a  sitting- 
room  and  three  small  bedrooms.  George  occupied 
one,  EfMe  and  the  girls  another,  Mrs.  Staunton,  the 
baby  and  little  Phil  the  third.  It  seemed  to  Effie 
as  if  they  had  always  lived  in  this  uninteresting 
house,  looking  out  on  that  narrow,  dismal  street. 
They  knew  nobody.  Their  lives  were  very  dull.  Mrs. 
Staunton  occupied  herself  over  George,  morning,  noon 
and  night.  She  mended  his  clothes  with  scrupulous 
care ;  she  washed  his  shirts  herself,  and  took  immense 
pride  in  bringing  the  fronts  up  to  a  wonderful  pol- 
ish. There  was  not  a  young  man  in  the  city  who 
went  to  his  daily  work  with  such  snowy  collars  as 
George,  such  neat  cuffs,  such  a  look  of  general  finish. 
This  work  delighted  Mrs.  Staunton — it  brought 
140 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          141 

smiles  to  her  eyes  and  a  look  of  satisfaction  to  her 
face. 

Effie  had  got  the  money  from  Mr.  Harvey,  and 
had  handed  it,  without  a  word,  to  George. 

He  took  it;  his  face  flushed  all  over;  tears  filled 
his  eyes. 

He  said,  "God  bless  you,  Effie !  You  are  the  bra- 
vest, best  sister  a  man  ever  had !"  And  then  he  went 
out  of  the  room  and  out  of  the  house. 

"He  never  asked  me  where  I  got  it,"  thought  poor 
Effie;  "and  now  there's  the  interest  to  pay,  and  how 
can  it  possibly  be  taken  out  of  our  hundred  a  year? 
Mother  must  neve-r,  never  know;  but  how  is  that  in- 
terest to  be  paid  ?" 

The  Stauntons  had  been  settled  about  a  fortnight 
in  their  new  home  when  Dorothy  came  to  pay  them 
a  visit. 

She  was  very  busy  in  her  hospital  life.  She  came 
in  with  her  accustomed  eager,  purposeful  walk.  She 
sat  down  on  the  nearest  chair  and  began  to  talk  cheer- 
fully to  the  children  and  sympathetically  to  Mrs. 
Staunton. 

AP  soon  as  she  had  an  opportunity,  however,  she 
drew  Effie  aside. 


142          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"!N"ow,  my  dear,"  she  said,  looking  straight  into 
Effie's  brown  eyes,  "when  are  you  coming  to  us  ?" 

"Oh,  if  I  could  come,"  exclaimed  Effie,  "I  should 
indeed  be  happy!  But  I  don't  see  any  chance  of 
it." 

"I  do.  You  are  not  really  wanted  here;  Agnes 
is  growing  a  big  girl.  Your  mother  is  devoted  to 
your  brother  George;  provided  he  comes  home  every 
evening,  she  scarcely  gives  a  thought  to  any  one  else. 
You  can  be  spared,  Effie,  and  it  will  be  good  for 
you.  You  do  not  look  a  bit  the  same  girl.  You  have 
lost  your  'go,'  somehow.  You  are  very  young.  It 
is  wrong  to  have  a  look  like  that  when  one  is  only 
twenty.  You  ought  to  come  to  the  hospital,  and 
there  is  a  vacancy  now  for  a  probationer,  if  you  can 
take  it." 

"If  I  dare  to,"  said  Effie ;  "but  it  does  not  seem 
right." 

"Yes,  I  believe  it  is  right.  I  know  the  matron 
of  St.  Joseph's  Hospital  so  well  that  I  think  I  can 
arrange  with  her  that  you  should  spend  a  part  of 
every  Sunday  at  home — at  least,  while  you  are  train- 
ing Agnes.  The  fact  is,  Effie,  you  are  a  born  nurse, 
and  it  is  a  sin  to  lose  you  to  the  profession." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          143 

*'I  should  like  to  come,  beyond  anything,"  said 
Effie.  "It  is  the  very  highest  wish  of  my  heart.  The 
last  night  that  I  ever  saw  my  dear  father  he  spoke 
to  ine  on  this  subject.  He  used  to  hate  lady  nurses, 
but  you  won  him  over,  Dorothy,  and  he  said  if  the 
time  came,  I  could  go,  with  his  blessing." 

"Then  surely  that  settles  the  matter,"  exclaimed 
Dorothy.  "I'll  speak  to  Mrs.  Staunton  before  I  leave 
to-day." 

"Oh,  no !  don't !  Mother  seems  quite  happy  and 
comfortable.  I  would  not  for  the  world  do  anything 
to  upset  or  distress  her." 

"If  it  upsets  and  distresses  her,  you  must  give  it 
up,  that's  all,"  said  Dorothy ;  "but  it  is  worth  sound- 
ing her  on  the  subject.  Don't  say  a  word,  Effie;  I'll 
speak  to  your  mother  about  it." 

Effie  looked  puzzled  and  anxious. 

"I  would  give  anything  to  go,"  she  murmured  to 
herself.  "It  is  torture  to  live  on  here,  thinking  of 
nothing  but  how  to  make  a  hundred  pounds  a  year 
pay  everything  that  is  expected  of  it.  Then  I  should 
be  one  off  the  family  purse,  for  all  my  expenses  would 
be  paid  by  the  hospital.  Yes,  surely  it  must  be  right. 
At  any  rate,  I'll  allow  Dorothy  to  speak." 


144          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

When  tea  was  over,  George,  who  had  come  in,  and 
was,  as  usual,  devoting  himself  to  his  mother,  tried 
to  coax  her  to  come  out  with  him  a  little. 

"No,  not  to-night,"  said  Dorothy  suddenly.  "I 
have  something  very  special  to  say  to  Mrs.  Staunton. 
Perhaps  you  would  stay  and  listen,  too,  George  ?" 

George  did  not  mind  being  called  by  his  Christian 
name  by  Dorothy.  She  was  regarded  by  the  Staun- 
tons  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  family. 

"I'll  do  anything  to  oblige  you,"  he  said,  giving 
the  handsome  nurse  a  look  of  genuine  admiration. 
"Come,  mother;  if  we  are  not  to  go  out,  we  can  at 
least  sit  near  each  other." 

He  drew  up  a  chair  close  to  his  mother  as  he  spoke, 
and  put  one  of  his  arms  around  her  neck.  She  leaned 
her  head  on  his  shoulder,  and  sat  there  in  perfect 
<x>ntent. 

After  a  time  one  of  his  strong  hands  closed  over 
hers.  She  had  never,  even  in  the  doctor's  time,  felt 
more  warmly  and  happily  protected. 

"Yes,  Dorothy,  what  have  you  to  say  ?"  she  re- 
marked. "George  and  I  are  all  attention." 

"George  and  you!"  laughed  Dorothy.  "I  never 
saw  such  a  devoted  pair.  Why,  you  are  just  like  a 
pair  of  lovers  1" 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          145 

"Well,  we  are  lovers,  aren't  we,  mother?"  said 
the  son. 

"Yes,  my  boy,"  she  replied.  "No  love  was  ever 
stronger  than  that  which  binds  us  together." 

"I  love  to  hear  you  say  that,"  remarked  Dorothy; 
"but  now  I  want  to  talk  on  quite  another  matter.  I 
am  very  anxious  about  Effie." 

"Effie!"  said  Mrs.  Staunton,  just  glancing  at  her 
daughter.  "What  about  her  ?  She  seems  quite  well. 
Are  you  well,  Effie  ?" 

"Yes,  mother,  I  am  perfectly  well,"  replied  Effie. 

"Oh,  it  is  not  that,"  said  Dorothy,  a  touch  of  scorn 
coming  into  her  voice.  "Effie  may  be  well  in  body, 
but  she  is  just  starved  in  soul." 

"Starved!"  said  Mrs.  Staunton  with  a  start. 
"What  do  you  mean,  Dorothy  ?" 

"Oh,  never  mind  her,  please,  mother !"  said  Effie 
in  distress.  "I  am  all  right,  really." 

"No,  she  is  not,"  continued  Dorothy.  "She  is  not 
right  in  the  way  I  should  like  to  see  her  right.  The 
fact  is,  she  wants  a  change." 

"Poor  child !"  said  Mrs.  Staunton.  "  We  are  not 
rich,  enough  to  think  of  changes." 

"The  sort  of  change  she  wants  will  not  cost  you 


146          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

any  money.  The  fact  is,  I  want  her  to  become  what 
Heaven  intended  her  to  be — a  thoroughly  trained  hos- 
pital nurse.  There  is  a  vacancy  now  for  a  proba- 
tioner at  St.  Joseph's,  and  I  can  get  her  admitted 
at  once.  May  she  conie  ?  That's  the  main  point  to 
consider." 

Mrs.  Staunton  looked  at  Erne.  Erne  looked  back 
at  her  mother. 

It  seemed  to  Effie  at  that  moment  as  if  she  would 
have  given  anything  for  her  mother  to  say,  "No,  I 
cannot  spare  her."  On  the  contrary,  Mrs.  Staunton 
said  in  a  calm  voice : 

"I  leave  the  choice  entirely  to  Effie  herself.  If 
she  thinks  she  can  be  spared,  she  may  go.  The  fact 
is,  Effie,  my  love,  your — your  dear  father  spoke  to 
me  on  this  subject  the  very  night  he  was  taken  ill. 
He  seemed  to  wish  it  then ;  that  is,  if  you  cared  for 
it  yourself.  If  you  are  still  of  the  same  way  of  think- 
ing, I  for  one  should  not  think  it  right  to  make  the 
slightest  opposition." 

"But  how  are  you  to  do  without  her?"  asked 
George  in  some  dismay. 

"Oh,  I  can  manage — I  am  not  the  helpless  old 
woman  you  seem  to  consider  me.  George,  I  really 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          147 

feel  better  and  stronger  every  day.  The  more  I  do 
for  you,  the  less  of  an  invalid  I  seem  to  be.  Effie 
has  been  quite  tiresome  lately,  trying  to  manage  the 
money,  and  taking  all  care  off  my  hands,  but  I  am 
quite  capable  of  seeing  to  matters  myself;  and  then 
Agnes  is  growing  a  big  girl — she  can  go  out  to  buy 
what  I  shall  order." 

Effie  looked  very  pale.  She  sat  perfectly  still  for 
a  moment.  Then  she  stood  up. 

""Very  well,  mother,  I'll  go,"  she  said  in  a  subdued 
voice.  "When  can  you  be  ready  for  me,  Dorothy  ?" 
she  continued. 

"In  a  week's  time,"  said  Dorothy.  "There  are  cer- 
tain preliminaries  to  be  gone  through,  but  I  will  send 
you  a  paper  of  our  rules.  You  must  fill  up  a  form — 
in  short,  you  must  do  exactly  what  you  are  instructed 
to  do  on  the  paper.  You  will  probably  be  admitted 
before  this  day  week." 

Dorothy  said  a  few  more  words  and  then  took  her 
leave.  Effie  accompanied  her  out  on  the  landing. 

"I  think  you  make  a  mistake  in  letting  Effie  go, 
mother,"  said  George,  when  he  was  alone  with  his 
mother. 

"Not  at  all,  my  son.     The  fact  is,  fond  as  I  am 


148         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

of  my  dear  Effie,  she  takes  almost  too  much  control 
lately  of  our  money  affairs — I  shall  be  glad  to  get 
them  into  my  own  hands.  There  are  very  many  com- 
forts which  I  could  give  you,  darling,  which  are 
simply  put  out  of  my  power  by  Effie's  determination 
to  keep  the  family  purse." 

George  said  nothing.  He  stooped  to  kiss  his  moth- 
er's cheek. 

He  had  not  looked  at  matters  from  that  point  of 
view  before.  He  allowed  his  mother  fifty  pounds 
a  year,  which  was  half  his  present  income,  and  it 
suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  he  was  making  a  very 
generous  allowance,  and  that  he  should  have  a  full 
share  of  the  benefit. 

"What  I  have  been  thinking  is  this,"  said  Mrs. 
Staunton.  "Out  of  the  fifty  pounds  a  year  which 
you,  dear  boy,  give  us,  we  ought  to  provide  a  certain 
portion  of  your  wardrobe.  You  really  want  new 
shirts.  I  suggested  to  Effie  a  week  ago  that  I  should 
like  her  to  buy  some  fine  lawn,  as  I  wanted  to  make 
them  for  you,  and  she  said  at  once  that  we  could  not 
afford  it.  But  never  mind,  dearest ;  when  mother 
is  put  into  her  own  position  again  you  shall  have  the 
best  shirts  of  any  young  man  in  the  city." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          14# 

Now  George  was  really  satisfied  with  his  present 
shirts,  but  if  his  mother  chose  to  make  him  better 
ones  he  did  not  care  to  oppose  her.  He  hoped  that 
he  would  be  asked  out  a  little  in  the  evenings  during 
the  coming  winter,  and  he  wondered  if  his  mother 
could  possibly  squeeze  an  evening  suit  for  him  out 
of  the  allowance  he  gave  her.  He  did  not  express 
this  thought,  however,  at  the  present  moment,  and 
as  Effie  re-entered  the  room  the  two  changed  the  con- 
versation. 

George  went  out  for  a  little,  and  Effie  took  up  some 
needlework,  sitting  where  the  lamp  in  the  center  of 
the  table  fell  full  upon  her  bright  brown  hair. 

"I  wonder,  Effie,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton  in  a  tone 
of  almost  discontent,  "that  you  did  not  speak  ta 
me  before  now  on  this  subject.  I  cannot  bear  to  think 
that  a  child  of  mine  does  not  give  me  her  full  confi- 
dence. You  know  I  am  the  last  person  in  the  world 
to  keep  you  drudging  and  toiling  at  home  when  you 
yourself  long  for  a  wider  field  of  usefulness." 

"Yes,  mother,  I  know  that,"  said  Effie  in  a  grave 
voice.  "The  fact  is,"  she  continued,  "I  did  not  think 
it  would  be  possible  for  you  to  spare  me ;  but  if  you 
can,  and  you  think  it  right  for  me  to  go,  I  shall,  of 


150          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

course,  be  delighted,  for  I  have  long  had  my  heart 
in  this  work." 

"You  are  like  all  other  modern  girls,"  said  Mrs. 
Staunton  in  that  provokingly  inconsistent  way  which 
characterized  her;  "you  are  not  satisfied  with  the 
home  nest.  Well,  well,  I  have  got  my  boy,  and  I 
must  not  complain." 

"Oh,  mother !  dear  mother !  you  have  got  us  all." 
Effie  rose  from  her  chair,  went  over  and  knelt  by 
her  mother's  side. 

"I  would  give  anything  in  the  world,"  she  said, 
looking  full  at  Mrs.  Staunton,  "for  you  to  say  that 
you  are  going  to  miss  me  awfully." 

The  sight  of  her  pretty  face  softened  the  mother's 
heart. 

"Of  course  I  shall  miss  you,  my  darling,"  she  said. 
" You  always  were  the  best  of  girls ;  but  I  don't  wish 
to  stand  in  your  way.  I  know  you  will  be  happy 
where  your  heart  is,  and  your  father  wished  it.  That, 
in  my  opinion,  settles  the  matter." 

"Well,  I  have  a  week,"  said  Effie  more  cheerfully, 
standing  up  as  she  spoke.  "I  must  do  all  in  my  power 
to  instruct  Agnes.  I  must  teach  her  the  little  econo- 
mies which  I  have  been  trying  to  practice." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          151 

"No,  you  need  not  do  that,  Effie.  When  you  go 
to  the  hospital  I  intend  to  resume  full  control  of  the 
family  purse." 

Effie  hesitated  and  looked  anxiously  at  her  mother 
as  she  said  this. 

"I  wish  it,  my  love,  so  there's  no  use  in  discussing 
the  matter,"  continued  Mrs.  Staunton.  "I  know  ex- 
actly what  we  have  got  to  spend — one  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  a  year.  It  is  very  little,  indeed,  but 
I  rather  fancy  I  am  as  good  a  manager  as  my  child. 
I  have  at  least  a  wider  experience  to  guide  me.  Out 
of  that  income  dear  George  provides  a  third.  It 
seems  to  me,  Effie,  that  we  should  give  him  rather 
more  comforts  than  he  has  had  lately  for  this  gen- 
erous allowance." 

"Oh,  mother !     George  really  wants  for  nothing." 

"I  cannot  agree  with  you.  I  should  wish  him  to 
have  beer  at  supper  every  night." 

"I  do  not  think  it  can  be  managed.  There  is  not 
a  penny  to  spare." 

"Well,  my  dear,  we  will  see.  It  is  also  only  just 
that  a  proportion  of  his  money  should  be  devoted  to 
providing  him  with  suitable  underclothing." 

"Oh,  mother!  mother!     Have  you  thought  of  the 


152          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

thousand  and  one  things  which  are  required  for  the 
children  and  yourself?  Surely,  George  can  manage 
to  buy  his  own  clothes  out  of  the  fifty  pounds  which 
he  reserves  for  his  personal  expenses !" 

"That's  so  like  a  girl !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Staunton, 
clasping  her  hands.  "She  knows  about  as  little  of 
a  young  man's  life  as  she  does  of  his  Greek  and 
Latin.  Well,  my  love,  we  will  propose  no  changes 
while  you  are  at  home.  You  must  go  to  the  hospital 
with  a  light  heart,  taking  your  mother's  blessing  with 

you." 

"A  light  heart,  indeed !"  thought  poor  Effie  when 
she  reached  her  room  that  night.  "A  light  heart,  with 
mother  spoiling  George  as  hard  as  ever  she  can !  I 
wonder  how  the  others  are  to  fare  when  George  is 
to  be  treated  like  a  prince  in  every  way,  and  I  won- 
der how  that  interest  is  to  be  met.  Oh,  dear!  oh, 
dear!  but  it  shall  be  paid  somehow.  Well,  I  sup- 
pose I  am  doing  right.  Mother  would  not  have  been 
content  with  this  state  of  things  much  longer,  that's 
more  than  evident ;  and  then  my  dear  father  wished 
it.  Yes,  I'll  take  up  my  new  life — I  trust  it  will 
bring  a  blessing  with  it — but,  oh,  mother !  how  anx- 
ious you  make  me!" 


CHAPTER   XIV 

IN  a  week's  time  Effie  found  herself  an  inmate  of 
the  great  hospital  which,  for  present  purposes,  we 
will  call  by  the  name  of  St.  Joseph's.  It  was  situ- 
ated in  the  east  of  London.  Dorothy  had  been  trained 
here,  and  was  now  superintendent  of  one  of  the  wards, 

Effie  was  to  go  up  for  a  month's  trial.  At  the  end 
of  that  time  she  would  be  paid  at  the  rate  of  twelve 
pounds  the  first  year,  and  twenty  pounds  the  second. 
Her  training  would  take  two  years.  A  certain  amount 
of  her  uniform  would  also  be  provided,  and  every- 
thing found  for  her  with  the  exception  of  washing. 

She  did  not  soon  forget  the  evening  of  her  arrival. 
She  had  said  good-by  to  her  mother,  had  kissed  the 
children,  had  given  Agnes  all  final  directions,  and 
at  last  found  herself  in  the  eab  which  was  to  take 
her  to  St.  Joseph's.  It  drew  up  presently  outside 
one  of  the  large  entrance  doors. 

A  lady,  who  was  called  the  Home  Sister,  received 
153 


154         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Effie  very  kindly,  and  offered  her  a  friendly  cup  of 
tea.  The  hour  of  her  arrival  was  about  four  in  the 
afternoon.  She  was  then  taken  up  to  her  own  room, 
and  instructed  how  to  put  her  cap  on,  and  how  to 
wear  her  new  uniform  in  the  neatest  and  most  com- 
pact way.  Her  dress  was  a  pretty  lilac  check,  and 
she  wore  a  cap  with  a  frill  around  it,  and  long  tails 
at  the  back.  Her  apron  bib  was  high  to  the  collar 
in  front,  and  fastened  with  straps  which  crossed  at 
the  back.  Nothing  could  be  neater  and  more  ser- 
viceable than  the  dress. 

The  kind  sister,  having  seen  that  Effie  was  all  right, 
gave  her  a  friendly  smile,  and  then  led  her  along 
several  dim  passages,  up  and  down  many  stairs,  un- 
til she  finally  found  herself  in  a  long,  light  ward, 
where  from  thirty  to  forty  women  were  lying  in  bed. 
The  Home  Sister  introduced  Effie  to  the  sister  of  the 
ward,  who  went  by  the  name  of  Sister  Kate.  Sister 
Kate  nodded  to  her,  said  a  word  or  two  in  a  very 
busy  voice,  and  then  Effie  found  herself  practically 
on  the  threshold  of  her  new  life.  The  sister  who  had 
been  kind  to  her  during  tea,  who  had  shown  her  to 
her  room,  and  instructed  her  how  to  dress,  had  van- 
ished. Sister  Kate  looked  far  too  busy  and  anxious 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          155 

to  be  worried  by  questions;  and  Effie,  capable  and 
active  as  she  always  was,  found  herself,  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  with  nothing  to  do,  and  overcome 
by  strange  nervousness.  She  was  too  much  embar- 
rassed to  be  of  real  use.  Her  face  was  burning  with 
blushes.  Sister  Kate  was  tired  with  her  long  day's 
work.  There  was  a  great  deal  to  be  done  to  put  the 
ward  straight  for  the  night,  and  she  'really  had  no 
time  to  devote  to  the  probationer.  The  women  lying 
in  their  beds  seemed  to  have  eyes  and  ears  for  no 
one  but  Effie.  Between  sixty  and  seventy  eyes  turned 
on  her  wherever  she  moved,  whatever  she  looked  at, 
whatever  she  did.  Some  of  the  eyes  in  the  pale  and 
harassed  faces  looked  kindly  and  interested,  some  of 
them  merely  amused,  some  of  them  cross  and  discon- 
tented. Effie  knew  that  these  women  would  be  queru- 
lous and  even  rude  under  the  touch  of  strange  and 
untutored  hands. 

At  last  the  night  nurses  arrived,  the  bell  rang,  and 
Sister  Kate  came  forward  to  show  the  new  proba- 
tioner the  way  to  the  dining-hall. 

Here  were  several  long  tables,  where  the  nurses, 
all  dressed  exactly  alike,  sat  down  to  supper.  Effie 
took  her  place  and  quickly  discovered  that  the  others 


156          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

were  far  too  tired  and  hungry  to  pay  any  attention 
to  her.  She  felt  too  excited  to  eat,  and  sat  watching 
the  faces  of  those  around  her. 

Supper  was  immediately  followed  by  prayers,  and 
then  came  bed.  Effie's  first  evening  as  a  proba- 
tioner was  over. 

She  did  not  know  whether  to  cry  or  to  laugh  as 
she  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow.  The  reality  was 
so  different  from  anything  her  fancy  had  painted. 
The  practical  character  of  the  work,  the  absence  of 
all  sentiment,  the  real  illness,  the  real  burden  of  hu- 
manity, seemed  to  press  down  upon  her. 

She  had  thought,  a  week  ago,  when  Dorothy  pro- 
posed that  she  should  come  to  St.  Joseph's,  of  the 
delight  of  being  in  the  same  hospital  with  her  friend, 
but  she  now  discovered  that  she  was  unlikely  to  see 
much  of  Dorothy  even  though  she  lived  under  the 
same  roof.  Dorothy  was  sister  of  a  ward,  and  that 
ward  was  not  the  one  where  Effie  was  to  serve  her 
probationership.  She  had  the  comfort  of  a  very  small 
room  to  herself,  and  was  just  closing  her  eyes  in  sleep 
when  the  handle  of  the  room  door  was  softly  turned, 
and  Dorothy,  looking  beautiful  in  her  sister's  dress 
of  soft  navy  serge,  came  in. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          157 

"So,  here  you  are,  my  poor  little  thing,"  said  Dor- 
othy, bending  over  Effie  and  kissing  her.  "I  have 
just  come  in  for  one  minute  to  say  God  bless  you. 
You  have  come,  the  ice  is  broken.  You  have  a  fine 
career  before  you.  Don't  be  discouraged  by  what 
you  saw  to-night." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  lonely !"  said  Effie  with  a  quiver  in 
her  voice.  "I  was  sure  when  I  came  here  that  I 
should  be  in  the  ward  with  you,  Dorothy." 

"No,  my  dear,  that  was  not  possible,"  replied  Dor- 
othy. "Of  course  I  should  have  been  very  glad  if 
it  could  have  been  arranged,  but  I  had  no  voice  in 
the  matter.  As  it  cannot  be,  dearest,  try  to  believe 
that  this  is  just  the  best  thing  that  could  have  hap- 
pened to  you,  to  be  flung  at  once,  as  it  were,  on  your 
own  feet.  You  will  thus  gain  experience  without 
having  a  crutch  like  me  to  lean  upon.  I  know  the 
first  night  is  very  bad,  but  you  will  soon  learn  your 
duties  and  become  intensely  interested  in  the  life. 
You  are  with  Sister  Kate,  are  you  not  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Effie.  "She  scarcely  spoke  to  me — I 
never  felt  so  awkward  in  my  life,  and  I  know  that 
I  was  never  half  so  clumsy." 

"Of  course,"  said  Dorothy,  with  a  smile.     "Don't 


158         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

I  know  the  feeling  well  ?  It  all  passes  over,  my  love, 
and  far  more  quickly  than  you  have  the  least  idea 
of.  Remember  you  have  got  the  power — those  little 
hands  are  capable,  that  head  holds  a  steady  and  sen- 
sible brain.  Why,  Effie,  you  have  gone  through  far 
worse  times  than  this  without  flinching.  Surely, 
surely,  yxm  are  not  going  to  break  down  now  ?" 

"Oh,  I  won't !  I  won't !"  said  Effie  with  a  sob ;  "but 
I  felt  lonely,  very  lonely,  and  it  was  so  very  kind  of 
you  to  come  to  see  me." 

"Of  course  I  have  come  to  see  you — I  am  only  too 
delighted  to  do  anything  in  my  power  for  you.  I 
would  have  rushed  down  to  share  your  cup  of  tea 
on  your  arrival,  but  a  bad  case  was  just  being  brought 
into  the  ward,  and  I  could  not  leave.  Now  I  must 
go  to  bed  myself,  or  I  shan't  be  fit  for  work  to-mor- 
row. Good-night,  Effie.  I  have  arranged  that  you 
are  to  spend  every  second  Sunday  at  home." 

"Oh,  how  good  you  are — how  thankful  I  am !"  ex- 
claimed Effie. 

Dorothy  was  leaving  the  room,  when  she  turned 
back. 

"I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  you  are  very  lucky  to  be 
under  Sister  Kate,"  she  said.  "There  is  not  a  nurse 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          159 

in  the  whole  hospital  who  trains  as  she  does,  and  her 
probationers  always  get  the  best  certificates  at  the 
end  of  the  two  years  of  training." 

"She  looks  so  severe  and  hard,"  said  Erne, 

"She  is  a  little  severe,  and  some  people  may  call 
her  hard,  but  she  has  a  tender  heart  under  all  that 
strict,  somewhat  cold  manner,  and  then  she  is  so  just. 
My  dear,  when  you  know  more  of  hospital  life  you 
will  be  thankful  that  you  are  with  a  just  and  patient 
sister.  Sister  Kate  is  both.  She  will  soon  recognize 
you,  Effie,  for  what  you  are.  Now  good-night,  my 
love." 

Dorothy  went  away,  and  soon  afterward  Effie  fell 
asleep. 

The  next  morning  she  was  awakened  by  a  bell,  at 
what  seemed  to  her  something  like  the  middle  of  the 
night.  She  had  to  dress  herself  quickly,  and  then 
go  into  the  ward  and  begin  her  duties. 

She  found,  somewhat  to  her  surprise,  that  she  had 
to  begin  her  nurse's  life  as  a  sort  of  maid  of  all  work ; 
she  had  to  scrub  floors,  to  clean  grates,  to  polish  han- 
dles— it  seemed  to  her  that  she  never  had  a  moment 
to  herself  from  morning  till  night.  Her  feet  felt 
very  sore,  her  back  ached.  Once  or  twice  she  felt 


160         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

so  dreadfully  fagged  that  she  wondered  if  she  could 
keep  up.  But  through  it  all,  growing  greater  and 
greater  as  the  days  went  on,  there  came  a  sense  of 
full  satisfaction,  of  something  accomplished,  some- 
thing done,  of  the  feeling  that  she  was  being  trained 
thoroughly  and  efficiently,  so  that  at  the  end  of  her 
time  of  probation  she  might  be  able  to  say,  "There's 
one  thing  which  I  can  do  well" 

When  the  first  Sunday  came  she  was  glad  to  hurry 
tome.  She  went  back  brimful  of  news,  and  looked 
forward  to  the  quiet  time  in  her  mother's  little  par- 
lor with  great  delight. 

Mrs.  Staunton  was  glad  to  see  her.  The  children 
were  all  dressed  in  their  black  frocks,  and  looked 
neat  and  comfortable.  George  was  in  the  room.  It 
seemed  to  Effie  as  if  she  did  not  recognize  his  coat 
— she  wondered  if  it  could  possibly  be  a  new  one. 

She  arrived  at  home  a  little  before  the  midday 
dinner,  and  presently  the  landlady  came  in  to  lay  the 
oloth.  This  used  to  be  Agnes'  occupation.  Effie  did 
not  say  anything  while  the  woman  was  in  the  room, 
but  when  she  went  out  she  remarked  on  this  change. 

"Oh,  it's  all  right,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton.  "I  pay 
half  a  crown  a  week  extra,  and  the  landlady  now 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          161 

waits  on  us.  It  is  much  more  comfortable,  I  assure 
you,  Effie,  and  worth  the  extra  bit  of  money." 

Effie  colored ;  she  gave  Agnes  a  reproachful  glance, 
but  did  not  say  anything. 

Agnes  turned  her  back  with  a  little  sniff. 

"Why,  Effie !"  she  said  suddenly,  "how  coarse  your 
hands  have  got !  What  in  the  world  have  you  been 
doing?" 

Effie  laughed. 

"Polishing,  cleaning  and  scrubbing,"  she  said.  "In 
short,  doing  very  much  what  Mrs.  Robinson's  little 
maid  of  all  work  does  down  in  the  kitchen  here." 

"Oh,  dear !  dear !"  exclaimed  Agnes.  "If  those 
are  a  nurse's  duties,  you  won't  catch  me  going  in  for 
that  sort  of  profession." 

"It's  awfully  interesting,"  said  Effie.  "I  have,  of 
course,  to  begin  at  the  bottom,  but  I  like  it  very 
much." 

While  she  was  speaking  there  came  a  knock  at 
the  door.  George  went  to  open  it,  and  a  young  man 
came  in.  George  brought  him  up  to  introduce  him 
to  his  mother. 

"This  is  my  great  friend,  Fred  Lawson,  mother," 
he  said.  "Effie,  let  me  introduce  you  to  Lawson — 
Lawson,  this  is  my  sister  Effie." 


162         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Effie  bowed.  She  felt  the  color  rushing  all  over 
her  face.  Lawson  was  the  man  whom  George  had 
wronged  in  some  mysterious  way.  Lawson  was  the 
man  for  whom  that  dreadful  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  was  required. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THEY  all  sat  down  to  dinner,  which  Effie  further 
noticed  was  a  great  deal  more  luxurious  than  when 
she  held  the  purse  strings.  There  was  a  nice  little 
joint  of  roast  beef,  Yorkshire  pudding,  and  one  or 
two  vegetables.  This  course  was  followed  by  an  apple 
tart  and  custard ;  and  then  the  board  was  graced  with 
some  russet  apples  and  walnuts  and  a  bottle  of  port 
wine. 

Erne  felt  such  a  sense  of  consternation  that  she 
could  scarcely  eat  this  pleasant  food.  But  Mrs. 
Staunton,  George,  Lawson,  and  the  younger  children 
enjoyed  the  dinner  thoroughly.  When  the  beef  was 
taken  away,  there  was  very  little  left  on  the  joint; 
ancl  as  to  the  fruit  tart,  it  vanished  almost  as  soon 
as  it  was  cut.  Effie  could  not  help  wondering  to 
herself  how  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year 
could  meet  this  lavish  style  of  living. 

Lawson  talked    very    pleasantly    during    dinner. 

163 


164         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

After  glancing  toward  Effie  several  times,  he  sud- 
denly remarked: 

"I  cannot  help  feeling  that  I  know  your  face," 
said  he.  "Where  and  when  have  we  met  before  ?" 

"I  saw  you  last  night,"  said  Effie  with  a  smile. 

"You  saw  me  last  night!  What  in  the  world  do 
you  mean  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Effie.  "Don't  you  remember  No.  17 
in  B  Ward  ?  You  came  in  to  stop  that  terrible  hem- 
orrhage from  the  lungs  from  which  she  was  suffer- 
ing." 

"B  Ward  at  St.  Joseph's?"  exclaimed  Lawson. 

"Oh,  my  dear  Effie,  now  I  beg  of  you  not  to  al- 
lude to  horrible  things  at  dinner !'  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Staunton. 

"No,  mother;  I  am  sorry  I  mentioned  it."  Effie 
colored  up. 

"What  have  you  to  do  with  St.  Joseph's?"  said 
Lawson. 

"I  am  a  probationer  in  B  Ward,  under  Sister 
Kate." 

"Never !  How  extraordinary !  Now  I  remember 
— you  are  the  girl  who  held  the  basin.  So  you  really 
are  a  probationer!  A  fresh  one!  Have  you  been 
•there  long?" 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          165 

"Just  a  week." 

"Well,  let  me  congratulate  you  on  one  thing — you 
held  that  basin  without  shaking  it.  I  expect  you 
have  got  plenty  of  nerve.  Of  course,  I  knew  I  must 
have  seen  you  before ;  I  never  forget  a  face." 

Lawson  presently  went  out  with  George  for  a  walk. 
Agnes  dressed  the  children  and  took  them  with  her 
to  the  Sunday-school,  and  Effie  was  alone  with  her 
mother. 

"Come  and  sit  by  me,  darling,"  said  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton.  "It  is  so  very  nice  to  have  you  home  again ;  I 
miss  you  very  much,  my  dear  daughter.  But  I  am 
really  getting  better.  George  wants  me  to  consult 
Dr.  Davidson  at  St.  Joseph's  Hospital.  He  thinks 
that  your  dear  father  may  have  been  mistaken  about 
my  heart,  and  that  it  may  get  quite  strong  and  well 
again." 

"If  you  feel  better,  I  don't  think  I  should  consult 
any  one,"  said  Effie,  trembling  a  little. 

"Well,  dear — well,  there's  no  hurry  about  it.  But 
I  always  notice,  Effie,  and  it  distresses  me  not  a  lit- 
tle, that  any  suggestion  of  George's  you  are  likely 
to  pooh-pooh ;  now  surely  that  is  scarcely  fair  to  himr 
dear  fellow  ?  You  must  notice,  my  love,  how  cheer- 


166         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

ful  and  pleasant  we  have  made  this  room.  George 
insisted  on  my  getting  new  curtains — only  white  mus- 
lin, you  careful  child.  They  cost  really  very  little, 
but  they  do  make  such  a  difference  in  the  effect.  Then 
he  has  also  determined  that  I  shall  live  better,  plenty 
of  meat  and  a  little  port  wine.  It  is  a  most  false 
economy,  my  dear,  not  to  attend  to  one's  diet.  There's 
nothing  else  keeps  up  the  health." 

"Yes,  mother,  I  know  all  that ;  but  good,  expensive, 
nourishing  things  have  to  be  paid  for." 

"Now,  Effie,  don't  let  me  hear  you  begin  that  dis- 
mal plaint.  Do  you  really  mean  to  insinuate  that 
I,  your  mother,  would  go  into  debt  for  things  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  dear  mother !    How  could  I  think  that  ?" 

"You  imply  it,  my  love,  by  your  manner." 

Effie  sighed. 

It  was  hopeless  to  argue  or  remonstrate.  She  felt 
as  if  the  little  home,  so  different  from  the  beloved 
one  at  Whittington,  was  in  reality  constructed  over 
a  volcano — any  day  it  might  collapse.  The  weight 
of  sorrow  which  pressed  against  her  heart  as  she 
thought  of  this,  of  her  father,  of  the  old  life,  quite 
crushed  the  brave  spirit  for  the  moment.  Where  was 
George's  honor  ?  How  dared  he  lead  his  mother  into 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          167 

these  extravagances,  when  he  knew,  too,  when  he 
knew 

Effie  clasped  her  hands  tightly  together.  She  re- 
strained her  emotions  with  an  effort,  and  turned  the 
conversation  to  indifferent  matters. 

Mrs.  Staunton  was  certainly  in  better  spirits. 
There  was  a  little  color  in  her  cheeks,  and  some  of 
the  old  sweet  brightness  in  her  eyes. 

When  George  had  been  absent  about  an  hour  she 
grew  restless  and  distraite;  she  left  her  seat  by  Effie's 
side,  and  going  to  the  window,  looked  up  and  down 
the  street. 

"I  hope  the  rain  isn't  coming  on,"  she  said;  "he 
forgot  to  taH;  an  overcoat." 

"Who,  mother?" 

"George." 

"But  really,  mother,  dear,  he  isn't  sugar ;  he  won't 
melt." 

"There  you  are  again,  Effie,  making  little  of  your 
brother.  It  so  happens  that  he  has  a  nice  new  coat 
on  to-day,  and  I  don't  want  it  to  get  shabby  at  once." 

"A  new  coat !    How  did  he  buy  it  ?" 

"I  lent  him  a  little  money  for  the  purpose.  He 
didn't  go  into  debt,  so  you  need  not  think  it." 


168          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"I  wonder  you  were  able  to  spare  the  money." 

"Oh,  yes;  some  of  my  dividends  fell  due,  and 
were  paid  on  Monday.  I  lent  George  three  pounds. 
I  think  he  has  got  a  wonderful  coat  for  the  money. 
He  will  pay  me  back  as  soon  as  he  gets  his  own  sal- 
ary. Ah!  and  there  he  is,  dear  fellow! — and  that 
nice-looking  young  man,  Mr.  Lawson.  Erne,  now  do 
ring  the  bell;  Mrs.  Robinson  ought  to  have  tea  on 
the  table." 

With  a  great  effort  Effie  kept  from  making  re- 
marks which  she  knew  would  only  irritate  her  mother. 

She  said  to  herself,  "There's  no  help  for  things 
to-day.  The  person  to  talk  to  is  George;  he  ought 
not  to  allow  mother  to  rush  through  her  money  in 
this  way.  I  wonder  if  I  am  doing  wrong  in  giving 
up  my  home  life  to  the  hospital ;  but  no,  I  don't  think 
I  am.  Mother  would  have  insisted  on  managing  the 
money,  in  any  case." 

Mrs.  Robinson  appeared  with  the  tea-tray.  There 
was  a  little  jug  of  cream  and  a  shilling  Madeira  cake  ; 
there  was  also  a  great  plate  of  thick  bread  and  but- 
ter for  the  children.  The  tea-tray  was  placed  on  the 
table,  and  George  and  Lawson  took  their  tea  stand- 
ing. Effie  helped  them.  Lawson  looked  at  her  once 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          169 

or  twice,  and  thought  what  a  wonderfully  nice  face 
she  had,  how  true  her  eyes  were,  how  good  she  seemed 
altogether. 

"She's  altogether  of  different  metal  from  her 
brother,"  thought  the  young  man.  "I  wish  with  all 
my  heart  he  were  like  her;  but  although  there  is 
something  lovable  about  him,  and  we  are  chums,  of 
course,  yet  I  never  feel  quite  sure  of  myself  when 
in  his  company." 

The  meal  which  followed  was  quite  merry.  Phil 
and  Marjory  had  gone  up  to  the  top  of  their  class 
in  Sunday-school ;  Agnes  was  promoted  to  teach  a 
class  of  very  little  children;  Katie  was  going  in  for 
the  Junior  Cambridge  Examination,  and  eagerly  con- 
sulted Effie  about  some  books  which  she  was  obliged 
to  procure.  Effie  promised  to  give  her  the  money 
out  of  her  first  month's  salary. 

"But  that  will  be  some  time  off,"  she  said,  "for  I 
am  only  going  through  my  month's  trial  now,  so 
you  must  be  patient,  Katie." 

"I'll  lend  you  the  money,"  said  George,  stroking 
his  sister's  hair. 

He  looked  so  affectionate  and  handsome,  and  so 
manly  and  good-humored,  that  it  was  impossible  not 


170         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

to  feel  pleased  with  him.  Mrs.  Staunton's  eyes  quite 
beamed  as  she  glanced  at  her  eldest  son. 

"Now,  mother,  I  am  going  to  sit  near  you,"  he 
said.  He  drew  his  chair  close  to  his  mother  and  began 
to  talk  to  her  in  a  low  tone. 

Effie  and  Lawson  exchanged  a  few  words  over  hos- 
pital work.  He  would  make  an  enthusiastic  doctor 
some  day;  he  loved  the  profession,  and  thought  it 
the  noblest  in  the  world.  He  reminded  Effie  a  little 
of  her  father. 

The  quick  hours  flew  all  too  fast.  Effie's  time 
was  up.  She  went  back  to  the  hospital  with  a  curious 
sense  of  uneasiness,  but  equally  also  of  rest  and  re- 
freshment. It  was  nice  to  think  that  George  had 
such  a  good  friend  as  Ered  Lawson. 


CHAPTEK    XVI 

Two  MONTHS  passed  away  without  any  special  in- 
cident. Effie's  month  of  trial  being  over,  she  was 
now  established  at  St.  Joseph's  as  a  regular  proba- 
tioner. Her  salary  of  twelve  pounds  a  year  began 
from  the  day  her  second  month  commenced.  All 
those  qualities  which  Dorothy  was  quite  sure  that 
Erne  possessed  were  coming  abundantly  to  the  fore. 
She  had  tact,  she  had  courage,  she  had  nerve.  She 
was  also  absolutely  unselfish.  Self  was  not  in  the 
foreground  with  her;  the  work  which  she  had  to  do, 
the  work  which  she  meant  to  carry  through  in  the 
best  possible  manner,  in  the  bravest  spirit,  with  the 
most  conscientious  sense  of  duty,  ever  filled  her  men- 
tal horizon.  Sister  Kate  began  to  trust  Erne.  She 
began  to  smile  at  her  now  and  then,  and  to  give  her 
not  quite  so  much  floor-scrubbing  and  grate-polishing, 
and  a  little  more  work  to  do  for  the  patients  them- 
selves. 

171 


172         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

The  patients  liked  to  call  Effie  to  smooth  their 
sheets,  to  turn  their  pillows,  to  give  them  their  drinks. 
One  or  two  of  them,  when  they  had  an  odd  moment, 
began  to  make  little  confidences  to  her.  She  learned 
their  histories  almost  at  a  glance.  She  also  studied 
their  fancies;  she  began  to  find  out  the  exact  way 
Mrs.  Kobinson  liked  her  gruel  flavored,  and  how 
Miss  Guiers  liked  her  pillows  arranged.  Effie  made 
no  fuss  over  the  patients — fuss  and  favoritism  were 
strongly  against  the  rules — but,  notwithstanding,  she 
was  a  favorite  herself. 

More  than  one  pair  of  tired  eyes  looked  at  her 
with  longing  and  refreshment  as  she  passed,  and  more 
than  one  pair  of  wearied  lips  smiled  when  she  came 
near. 

Two  months  went  by  in  this  fashion — very,  very 
quickly,  as  such  busy  months  must.  It  was  found 
impossible  to  allow  Effie  to  go  home  every  Sunday, 
but  she  went,  as  a  rule,  every  second  one. 

Things  seemed  to  be  going  fairly  straight  at  home. 
The  extravagance  she  had  noticed  on  her  first  Sun- 
day was  not  repeated  to  the  same  extent.  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton  seemed  decidedly  better,  and  Effie  gave  herself 
up  with  a  thankful  heart  to  her  work. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          173 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  winter,  close  upon  Christ- 
mas time.  The  weather  outside  was  bitterly  cold, 
although  in  the  ward  Effie  scarcely  felt  this.  She 
wore  her  neat  lilac  print  dress  just  the  same  in  winter 
as  in  summer. 

One  day,  about  a  week  before  Christmas,  when 
a  thick,  yellow  fog  was  shutting  out  all  the  view 
from  the  high  ward  windows,  Effie  was  doing  some- 
thing for  No.  47,  a  poor,  tired-looking  woman  of 
the  name  of  Martin,  when  Lawson,  the  young  medi- 
cal student,  came  suddenly  into  the  ward.  He  had 
been  sent  by  the  house  physician  to  take  notes  on  a 
certain  case.  This  case  happened  to  be  the  very 
one  which  Effie  was  attending.  When  he  saw  Effie  a 
peculiar  expression  passed  over  his  face.  It  was 
against  the  strictest  of  all  rules  for  the  medical  stu- 
dents ever  to  address  a  word  to  the  probationers ; 
even  the  necessary  duties  required  of  them  had  to 
be  conveyed  through  a  sister  or  a  ward  nurse.  Effie 
was  helping  poor  No.  47  to  drink  a  little  milk  and 
soda-water.  As  she  put  the  glass  back  in  its  place 
Lawson  came  close  to  her.  He  said  abruptly: 

"I  am  very  anxious  to  have  a  conversation  with 
you  about  George." 


174.         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

She  colored  crimson  when  he  addressed  her. 

''Yes,"  she  said. 

"Nurse !"  exclaimed  Sister  Kate's  voice  at  that  mo- 
ment in  a  harsh,  sharp  tone,  "go  at  once  and  make 
up  the  fire  at  the  other  end  of  the  room." 

Effie  went  off  trembling  and  disturbed. 

The  fact  of  Lawson  having  specially  addressed  her 
passed  out  of  her  mind  immediately,  but  the  mention 
of  George's  name  filled  her  with  fear. 

It  was  the  first  time  in  her  hospital  life  that  she 
absolutely  forgot  the  rules  laid  down  for  her  con- 
duct. Sister  Kate,  who  had  the  eyes  of  a  hawk,  no- 
ticed when  Lawson  bent  over  to  speak  to  the  pretty 
little  probationer.  It  was  her  duty  to  correct  the 
faintest  attempt  at  flirting  on  the  part  of  the  proba- 
tioners and  medical  students.  She  felt  shocked  at 
Effie,  who  was  fast  becoming  a  favorite  of  hers,  per- 
mitting such  a  thing  for  a  moment,  and  when  next 
Effie  had  anything  to  do  for  her  quite  resumed  her 
icy  manner  toward  her. 

No.  47  required  some  special  attention  again  that 
evening — she  was  feverish,  and  not  going  on  well. 
She  called  Eflie  to  her  side  in  an  eager  voice. 

"You  might  turn  my  pillow  again  for  me,  dear," 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         175 

she  said.  "You  know  how  to  hitch  it  right  under 
the  small  of  my  back,  better  than  any  of  those  other 
nurses.  There,  now ;  that's  better.  Stoop  your  head 
a  bit,  love.  I  believe  if  you  go  downstairs  into  the 
hall,  near  the  surgery,  you  are  safe  to  see  that  young 
doctor;  he  is  sure  to  be  in  the  dispensary  about  this 
time,  and  you  might  catch  him  when  he  is  going 
out." 

"Hush!"  said  Effie.  "I  know  you  mean  kindly, 
but  you  ought  not  to  talk  like  that." 

"Oh,  my  love,  I  know,  I  know,"  said  the  woman 
with  a  wink.  "We  was  all  young  once — I  am  three- 
and-forty,  and  have  never  had  a  mate.  I  missed 
my  chance  when  I  was  young.  Don't  miss  yours, 
nurse." 

Effie  turned  pale  with  indignation;  but  then,  see- 
ing that  the  woman  meant  kindly,  she  tried  to  smile. 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  she  said,  "but 
things  aren't  a  bit  the  way  you  think."  She  then 
went  off  to  perform  her  other  duties. 

Sister  Kate  spoke  to  her  sharply. 

"Nurse,"  she  said,  "I  hope  you  remember  the  rule 
which  forbids  favoritism.  I  noticed  that  you  stayed 
longer  than  was  necessary  with  No.  47." 


176          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"She  complained  a  good  deal  of  her  back,  sister, 
and  I  was  arranging  her  pillows  for  her." 

"Don't  try  to  deceive  me,"  said  Sister  Kate.  "You 
know  perfectly  well  that  you  did  not  spend  all  that 
time  arranging  a  pillow.  Now  go  and  help  to  bring 
up  the  teas." 

Effie  turned  to  her  duties  with  a  tingling  sensation 
in  her  eyes. 

It  was  the  first  time  since  her  arrival  at  St.  Jo- 
seph's that  her  work  seemed  almost  impossible  to 
her.  Her  heart  quite  ached  with  longing  to  know 
what  Lawson  had  meant.  What  had  he  to  tell  her 
about  George  ?  As  she  thought,  her  fears  grew  great- 
er, and  her  memory  of  the  hospital  rules  less  and 
lees. 

She  determined,  at  any  risk,  to  try  and  see  Lawson 
that  evening.  It  would  be  impossible  for  her  to  ven- 
ture down  into  the  central  hall  of  the  hospital,  but 
she  felt  certain  that  he  would  come  into  the  ward 
again  late  that  evening. 

Sister  Kate  would  be  off  duty  at  nine  o'clock,  and 
Sister  Alice,  the  night  superintendent,  was  not  nearly 
so  strict.  Effie  hovered  about  near  the  door;  she 
knew  she  was  disobeying  rules,  for  she  ought  to  have 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          177 

gone  to  bed  soon  after  nine  o'clock.  No  one  noticed 
her,  however.  The  night  nurses  were  all  busy  tak- 
ing up  their  different  duties,  and  Sister  Alice  was 
talking  to  the  house  physician  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  ward. 

Suddenly  Effie,  standing  near  one  of  the  doors, 
saw  Lawson  coming  upstairs.  She  ran  to  him  with- 
out a  moment's  hesitation.  "What  have  you  to  tell 
me  about  George  ?"  she  said. 

He  colored,  and  looked  almost  annoyed  when  she 
spoke  to  him. 

"I  cannot  tell  you  here,"  he  said  in  a  hasty  voice. 
"Are  you  going  home  next  Sunday  ?" 

"No;  it's  my  Sunday  in — unless  I  could  get  one 
of  the  other  probationers  to  change  with  me." 

"I  wish  you  would  manage  to  do  that ;  I  really 
want  to  see  you  very  badly.  If  you'll  go  home  on 
Sunday,  I'll  call  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  and 
then  I  can  walk  back  with  you  to  the  hospital.  Now 
go  at  once — you  must  not  be  seen  talking  to  me." 

Effie  flew  down  the  corridor  to  her  own  little  room. 

That  night  she  could  scarcely  sleep;  she  felt  op- 
pressed with  all  kinds  of  forebodings.  The  idea  of 
her  having  broken  one  of  the  rules,  and,  in  fact,  laid 


178          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

herself  open  to  dismissal,  never  once  entered  into  hei 
head. 

She  was  still  the  faithful  nurse — the  earnest-mind- 
ed, gentle,  good  girl,  who  would  give  up  her  whole 
life  to  the  alleviation  of  the  suffering  of  others.  The 
fact  of  Effie  having  a  dual  life,  of  having  a  nature 
which  could  not  forget  the  old  home  ties,  was  not 
likely,  however,  to  be  recognized  in  the  hospital. 

The  next  morning  at  breakfast  she  noticed  that 
one  or  two  of  the  probationers  giggled  a  little  when 
they  saw  her.  She  sat  down  in  her  usual  seat,  and 
•one  of  the  girls  nudged  her  elbow. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "you're  no  better  than  the  rest 
of  us." 

"What  in  the  world  do  you  mean?"  said  Effie, 
coloring  scarlet. 

"Oh,  don't  be  so  sly!"  said  the  girl  with  a  poke 
which  she  intended  to  make  playful.  "He  is  a  very 
good-looking  young  fellow,  too;  only,  if  you  don't 
want  to  get  into  mischief,  don't  let  Sister  Kate  see 
it" 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Effie  in  a  steady 
voice,  "but  you  are  altogether  mistaken.  I  scarcely 
know  Mr.  Lawson ;  he  only  spoke  to  me  yesterday 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          17$ 

because  he  happened  to  be  a  great  friend  of  my 
brother's." 

"Oh,  the  usual  thing,"  laughed  the  girl.  "It's  so 
very  convenient  to  have  brothers,  is  it  not,  Lucy  ?" 

The  girl  addressed  as  Lucy  grinned,  and  Effie  felt 
very  uncomfortable. 

At  dinner  that  day  it  suddenly  passed  through  her 
mind  that  she  must,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  induce  one 
of  the  probationers  to  change  Sundays  with  her.  Lucy 
was  usually  a  good-natured  girl.  Her  people  did  not 
live  in  town;  as  a  rule,  she  spent  her  Sundays  out 
with  her  aunt-in-law.  Effie  went  up  to  her  when  she 
had  a  moment  to  spare. 

"Lucy,"  she  said,  "I  wish  you  would  do  some- 
thing for  me." 

"To  be  sure  I  will,  Effie,"  she  replied ;  "anything 
in  my  power." 

"I  want  to  go  home  very  badly  next  Sunday;  do 
you  think  it  would  be  possible  for  me  to  change  with 
you?" 

"Heigh-ho !"  said  Lucy.  "You  want  to  meet  Mr. 
Lawson !  I  know  your  sly  little  ways !" 

"No,  indeed,  it  is  not  true,"  began  Effie ;  but  then 
she  stopped,  for  she  knew  it  was  true.  She  would 


180         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

meet  him.  "Oh,  how  little  Lucy  knows  the  burden 
that  is  pressing  on  me !"  thought  the  poor  girl. 

Tears  suddenly  rose  to  her  pretty  brown  eyes. 

"I  cannot  explain  things  to  you,"  she  said;  "I 
would  if  I  could.  You  must  believe  in  me,  and  trust 
me.  I  have  a  great  deal  of  anxiety.  Oh,  it  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  hospital ;  it  is  about  my  home  life. 
There  is  a  great  burden  laid  upon  me.  I  want  very 
much  to  go  home  on  Sunday.  Indeed,  Mr.  Lawsen 
has  little  to  do  with  the  real  burden,  only  I  believe 
he  can  tell  me  something." 

"I  know  you  are  a  good  girl,"  began  Lucy,  who 
became  grave  on  the  spot.  "Of  course  you  shall  take 
my  turn,  if  Sister  Kate  will  allow  it." 


CHAPTER   XVII 

SISTER  KATE  made  no  objection,  and  Effie  hurried 
home  in  a  state  of  excitement  which  she  could  scarcely 
restrain.  Mrs.  Staunton  did  not  expect  her,  and  the 
poor  girl  felt  her  heart  sink  low  in  her  breast  when 
she  saw  that  her  unexpected  arrival  scarcely  gave 
satisfaction.  There  was  a  nice  white  cloth  on  the 
table,  and  a  large  bunch  of  flowers  in  a  pretty  cut- 
glass  jug  stood  in  the  center.  An  attempt  at  dessert 
again  graced  the  board,  and  Effie  noticed  that  a  bot- 
tle of  sherry  and  a  bottle  of  port  stood  on  the  little 
sideboard. 

She  felt  a  sense  of  dismay. 

"Even  mother  is  beginning  to  keep  things  from 
me,"  she  said  to  herself.  "It  is  all  George,  of  course  t 
They  did  not  expect  me  home  to-day,  so  they  are 
having  a  particularly  good  dinner.  Is  it  possible 
that  even  mother  would  try  to  deceive  me  ?  Oh,  dear ! 
dear !  How  changed  all  our  life  is,  now  that  father 
is  no  longer  here !" 

181 


182          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

There  had  never  been  the  faintest  shadow  of  con- 
cealment about  the  honest  doctor,  and  while  with 
her  husband  Mrs.  Staunton  was  the  most  straightfor- 
ward woman  imaginable ;  but,  alas !  her  character 
was  a  weak  one — she  was  now  completely  under 
George's  influence,  and  George  had  learned  to  walk 
in  those  crooked  paths  which  those  who  begin  to  do 
wrong  are  always  tempted  to  follow. 

He  came  in  presently,  looking  particularly  hand- 
jsome  and  manly.  He  had  on  a  nice  new  coat;  and 
his  beautifully  got  up  collar  showed  off  his  fresh 
young  face  to  the  best  possible  advantage. 

Mrs.  Staunton  called  him  up  at  once  for  Effie  to 
criticize. 

"Doesn't  he  look  well  in  a  white  silk  tie?"  she 
said.  "I  like  white  ties  better  than  colored  ones 
for  him,  and  they  are  not  so  expensive,  either,  for 
I  can  wash  them  myself." 

"I  wonder  all  that  washing  does  not  fag  you,  moth- 
er," said  Effie. 

Before  Mrs.  Staunton  could  reply  Mrs.  Robinson 
appeared  with  the  dinner,  and  the  family  sat  down 
to  an  excellent  meal. 

Effie  saw  quite  plainly  that  it  would  be  useless 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          183 

for  her  to  attempt  to  expostulate.  Mrs.  Staunton, 
after  her  first  start  of  unconcealed  dismay,  was  very 
affectionate  to  her  daughter.  She  told  Effie  that  she 
thought  she  looked  a  little  pale,  and  wondered  whether 
all  that  nursing  was  not  too  much  for  her. 

"Xo,  mother ;  I  love  the  work,"  said  Effie. 

"But  that  is  not  the  question,  my  love,"  said  Mrs. 
Staunton,  shaking  her  head.  "The  question  is  this: 
is  it  undermining  your  health?" 

"Well,  in  any  case,  I  should  have  to  earn  my  liv- 
ing," said  Effie.  "I  could  not  possibly  afford  to  do 
nothing  at  home.  As  well  earn  it  as  a  nurse  as  in 
any  other  way,  and  I  love  nursing  beyond  anything 
else  in  the  world." 

"You  always  were  an  obstinate,  dear,  little  girl — 

was  she  not,  George?  But,  after  all,  Effie " 

Here  Mrs.  Staunton  paused  and  looked  at  her  son. 
"I  think  I  might  tell  Effie  ?"  she  said,  giving  him  a 
bright  nod. 

"Oh,  I  don't  suppose  there  is  anything  to  make  a 
fuss  over,"  replied  George.  He  colored  as  he  spoke, 
and  looked  out  of  the  window.  He  could  easily  hood- 
wink his  mother,  but  it  was  difficult  to  meet  Effie's 
clear  eyes  and  not  to  feel  sure  that  she  was  reading 
him  through,  and  seeing  him  as  he  really  was. 


184         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Agnes  jumped  up,  saying  it  was  full  time  to  go 
to  Sunday-school.  She  carried  off  the  children  with 
her,  and  George,  his  mother,  and  Effie  were  alone. 

"Sit  down  in  your  usual  chair,  George,"  said  his 
mother.  He  did  so,  bringing  up  the  port  wine  as 
he  spoke,  and  pouring  out  a  glass,  which  he  insisted 
on  his  mother  drinking.  He  tossed  off  one  or  two 
glasses  himself,  after  which  his  eyes  grew  bright  and 
steady,  and  a  color  came  into  his  cheeks. 

"Yes,  tell  Effie,"  he  said. 

"I  think  you  might  do  so,  George ;  I  am  so  proud 
of  you." 

"No,  mother.  I  like  to  hear  you  describing  me; 
you  make  rne  feel  such  an  awfully  fine  fellow." 

George  laughed  as  he  spoke. 

"Well,  then,  Effie,"  said  his  mother,  "you  will  in 
future  learn  to  appreciate  our  dear  George  as  he  de- 
serves. The  fact  is  this:  he  has  just  got  a  rise  in 
his  salary  of  a  whole  hundred  a  year.  George  is  now 
earning  two  hundred  a  year,  and  he  has  arranged, 
dear  fellow,  to  give  me  one  hundred  a  year,  in  order 
that  I  may  have  those  little  comforts  which  he  thinks 
I  require." 

"Is  that  really  true?"  said  Effie,  coloring.     "Oh, 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          185 

what  splendid  news !"  She  looked  eagerly  at  George 
as  she  spoke.  She  longed  to  jump  up,  throw  her  arms 
around  his  neck,  and  kiss  him. 

KIs  this  true  ?"  she  repeated.  "Oh,  I  am  so  glad ! 
We  do  want  the  money  so  badly !" 

George  stooped  to  flick  off  a  speck  of  dust  which 
had  settled  on  his  immaculate  shirt-cuff;  his  eyes 
would  not  meet  Effie's. 

"Of  course  it  is  true,"  he  said  in  a  bravado  sort 
of  voice.  "You  don't  suppose  I  would  tell  mother 
a  lie,  do  you  ?" 

"Oh,  Effie!  How  could  you  doubt  him?"  said 
Mrs.  Staunton,  almost  crying. 

"No,  mother,  I  don't  doubt  him,"  Effie  replied. 
She  walked  to  the  window.  Her  momentary  pleas- 
ure was  over;  she  knew,  just  as  well  as  if  George  had 
told  her,  that  the  whole  thing  was  a  fabrication.  If 
he  had  more  money,  he  was  not  getting  it  in  his  situ- 
ation. His  look,  his  attitude,  joined  to  the  few  words 
Lawson  had  said  to  her,  made  Effie  quite  certain  on 
that  point.  Burning  words  half  rose  to  her  lips, 
but  she  checked  them.  She  did  not  doubt  George. 
She  read  the  truth  in  his  eyes;  what  fell  from  his 
lips  was  nothing. 


186         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Mrs.  Staunton  kept  on  talking.  "We  shall  have 
real  comforts  at  home  now,"  she  said.  "I  am,  as  my 
boy  says,  a  wonderful  manager." 

"The  best  in  all  the  world,"  interrupted  George. 
"There  never  was  such  a  mother." 

Mrs.  Staunton' s  eyes  quite  shone  with  pleasure. 

"What  I  was  thinking  of  was  this,  Effie,"  she  con- 
tinued, "that  if  you  really  are  not  strong  enough  to 
go  on  with  your  work,  we  can  now  afford  to  keep  you 
at  home." 

"Of  course  we  can,"  said  George. 

He  had  scarcely  said  these  words,  half  turning  his 
back  on  Effie  as  he  spoke,  when  the  room  door  was 
opened  by  Mrs.  Robinson  and  Lawson  was  announced. 

When  he  saw  his  friend  George  suddenly  turned 
pale.  He  recovered  himself  in  a  moment,  however, 
and  went  forward  to  meet  him,  speaking  in  a  loud 
and  bragging  voice : 

"Is  that  you,  Lawson  ?  Welcome,  old  chap !  We 
did  not  expect  you  to-day,  but  we  are  right  glad  to 
see  you,  of  course." 

"You  will  stay  and  have  tea  with  us,  won't  you, 
Mr.  Lawson  ?"  said  Mrs.  Staunton  in  her  sweet  voice. 

"Yes;  certainly,"  said  Lawson. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          187 

He  had  given  Effie  his  hand  when  he  came  into  the 
room,  but  he  scarcely  looked  at  her. 

He  sat  down  near  Mrs.  Staunton  and  began  to 
talk  to  her  in  his  usual  bright  way.  She  yielded 
after  a  moment  to  his  charm.  Lawson  was  a  young 
fellow  with  a  great  amount  of  general  information; 
he  had  also  abundance  of  tact,  and  he  knew  how  to 
suit  his  words  to  Mrs.  Staunton's  requirements. 

When  George  saw  his  friend  talking  to  his  mother 
he  went  up  to  Effie  and  stood  near  her. 

"Come  to  this  end  of  the  room,"  he  said  abruptly. 

Effie  followed  him. 

"I  am  likely  to  make  quite  a  pile  of  money,"  he 
said,  speaking  in  a  low  voice  and  glancing  toward 
his  mother.  "I  know  you  think  badly  of  me — it's 
awfully  hard  on  a  fellow  when  his  sister  thinks  badly 
of  him — but,  nevertheless,  I  am  likely  to  be  in  a  real 
good  way  of  business  soon.  And  what  I  want  to  say 
now  is  this,  Effie.  I  am  anxious  to  pay  back  that 
two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  which  you  borrowed 
for  me." 

"I  wish  you  would,"  said  Effie. 

"Well,  I  dare  say  I  can  give  you  fifty  pounds 
toward  it  this  week.  Squire  Harvey  won't  require 
the  whole  of  the  money  back  at  once." 


188          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Oh,  be  doesn't  require  it  at  all,"  said  Effie.  "It 
is  I  who  require  it.  It  is  my  honor  and  the  honor 
of  my  dead  father  that  demand  it.  It  ought  to  be 
paid  back,  and  you  ought  to  do  it." 

"Don't  speak  so  loudly — you  do  get  so  excited 
about  things,"  said  George. 

Effie  lowered  her  voice.  Lawson,  as  he  talked  to 
Mrs.  Staunton,  glanced  sharply  at  her. 

Tea  was  brought  in,  and  Effie  had  to  take  her  place 
at  the  tea-tray.  George's  words  had  made  her  feel 
more  uncomfortable  than  ever.  It  was  absolute  non- 
sense to  suppose  that  he  could  be  earning  money  at 
this  rate. 

After  tea  Effie  had  to  go  back  to  the  hospital. 

"Good-by,  mother,"  she  said.  "I  won't  see  you  now 
for  a  fortnight." 

Mrs.  Staunton  got  up  and  put  her  feeble  old  arms 
around  her  daughter's  neck.  "Good-by,  my  darling," 
she  said.  "Take  care  of  yourself;  don't  overwork 
yourself.  Remember  it  is  unnecessary.  You  have 
got  a  home,  and  a  dear,  noble,  faithful  brother  to 
provide  for  you." 

"Yes,  Effie,  you  are  heartily  welcome  to  all  that  I 
can  give  you,"  said  George  in  a  lofty  tone. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          189 

Effie  pressed  her  lips  to  her  mother's,  kept  her  arms 
for  one  moment  around  her  neck,  and  then  turned 
away  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 

"Good-by,  George,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  hand. 

"1*11  see  you  back  to  the  hospital,"  said  George. 

"Don't  do  that.  It  is  a  beautiful  evening;  mother 
would  like  you  to  take  a  walk  with  her." 

"And  I'd  have  the  greatest  pleasure  in  seeing  Miss 
Effie  home,  if  she  would  let  me,"  said  Lawson. 

George  hesitated  for  a  moment.  For  some  reason, 
which  was  more  than  evident,  he  did  not  want  Effie 
to  be  alone  with  his  friend. 

He  looked  at  his  mother.  She  did  not  catch  his 
eye,  or  she  would  have  read  his  wish  by  instinct.  The 
evening  was  really  very  fine,  and  she  liked  to  walk 
around  the  square  leaning  on  George's  arm.  When 
well  enough,  too,  she  liked  him  to  take  her  to  church. 

"I  think  I'd  enjoy  a  little  walk  with  you,  George," 
she  said.  "The  evening  is  quite  like  spring — won- 
derful weather  for  so  near  Christmas;  the  air  is  as 
mild  and  soft  as  milk ;  and  as  Mr.  Lawson  has  so 
kindly  promised  to  see  Effie  back,  perhaps  you'd 
come  ?" 

"All  right,"  said  George.  "By-by,  Effie;  you'll 
hear  from  me,  perhaps,  in  the  course  of  the  week." 


190          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Effie  went  downstairs,  followed  by  Lawson.  As 
soon  as  ever  they  got  out,  he  looked  her  full  in  the 
face. 

"You  must  be  greatly  amazed,"  he  said,  "at  my 
presuming  to  bother  you  about  your  family  affairs." 

"Oh,  no !"  she  replied.  "I  think  you  are  kind,  but 
your  words  have  made  me  very  anxious." 

"Then,"  said  Lawson,  "you  see  for  yourself  that 
things  are  not  all  right." 

"I  have  known  that  for  some  time." 

"George  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,"  continued 
Lawson.  "We  saw  a  good  deal  of  each  other  when 
he  first  came  to  town — he  was  a  right  jolly  sort  of 
fellow  then ;  it  was  only  about  six  months  ago  that,  all 
of  a  sudden,  he  seemed  to  change.  I  suppose  he  took 
up  with  some  bad  companions,  but  I  really  can't  say 
for  certain." 

"But  what  about  him  now  ?"  said  Effie  in  a  voice 
almost  irritable  with  anxiety.  "Have  you  anything 
fresh  to  tell  me  ?" 

"You  heard  him,  probably,  say  to  your  mother  that 
he  had  a  rise  of  salary  ?" 

"Yes." 

"The  fact  is,"  continued  Lawson,  "I  know  that 
not  to  be  true." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         191 

Effie  also  in  her  heart  of  hearts  knew  it  not  to 
be  true,  but  she  could  not  bear  to  hear  a  stranger 
abuse  her  brother. 

"How  can  you  be  sure?"  she  said,  somewhat  in- 
consistently. 

"How  can  I  be  sure  ?"  he  retorted.  "This  is  not 
a  matter  of  sentiment.  I  happen  to  know.  George 
is  working  with  a  relative,  it  is  true,  but  Mr.  Gering 
is  one  of  the  hardest  men  in  the  city.  Every  one  who 
understands  him  knows  the  system  on  which  he  works, 
and  a  relative  has  no  more  chance  with  him  than  an- 
other. George  will  have  to  take  his  rise  step  by  step 
at  something  like  the  rate  of  ten  pounds  a  year.  Per- 
haps he  has  told  your  mother  that  he  has  had  quite  a 
large  rise  ?" 

"He  said  a  hundred  a  year;  he  said  he  was  now 
receiving  two  hundred  a  year." 

"What  is  to  be  done  ?"  said  Lawson.  "Something 
ought  to  be  done  to  stop  it.  Your  mother  will  cer- 
tainly live  beyond  her  means,  and  then  you  will  all 
get  into  no  end  of  a  mess.  Do  forgive  me  for  taking 
an  interest ;  the  fact  is,  George  was  a  great  friend  of 
mine  once." 

"Oh,  please  don't  give  him  up!"  said  Effie.     "If 


192         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

good  men  turn  against  him,  what  chance  has  he,  poor 
fellow?" 

"I  won't,  if  you  wish  me  to  look  after  him,"  said 
Lawson,  giving  her  a  quick  glance. 

At  this  moment  two  nurses  from  St.  Joseph's  Hos- 
pital, who  were  crossing  the  street,  saw  Effie.  They 
noticed  her  earnest  face,  the  sparkle  in  her  eyes ;  they 
also  observed  the  glance  which  the  handsome  young 
medical  student  gave  her.  The  women  nudged  one 
another,  smiled,  and  went  on. 

Effie  never  saw  them. 

"Let  us  walk  a  little  faster,"  said  Lawson,  who  was 
not  so  unobservant.  He  felt  vexed  that  the  women 
should  see  him  with  Effie,  but  now  that  he  was  with 
her  he  must  at  least  unburden  his  mind. 

"George  told  me,"  said  Effie — "perhaps  it  is  not 
wrong  to  repeat  it  to  you — that  he  is  likely  to  make  a 
great  deal  of  money." 

"Did  he  ?  Did  he  tell  you  that — did  he  happen  to 
say  how  much  ?" 

"Well,  he  spoke  as  if  money  were  very  easily 
earned,"  said  Effie.  "He  said  something  about  get- 
ting fifty  pounds  this  week." 

"I  mast  tell  you  the  truth,"  said  Lawson.   "There'? 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         193 

no  help  for  it.  Your  brother  will  go  straight  to  the 
bad  if  he  is  not  rescued,  and  that  at  once." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?    Oh,  how  you  frighten  me !" 

Effie's  face  was  as  white  as  a  sheet. 

"I  am  ever  so  sorry,"  said  Lawson,  "but  what  is 
the  use  of  keeping  back  the  truth  \  George  has  had 
ao  rise  of  salary — indeed,  if  he  is  not  careful,  he  is 
likely  to  lose  his  situation  altogether." 

"Then  how  does  he  get  his  money  ?" 

"He  gets  it  by  gambling." 

"Gambling!     Oh,  no!  oh,  no!"  said  Effie. 

She  had  the  horror  of  that  vice  which  a  pure- 
minded,  well-brought-up  girl  must  ever  have. 

"It  is  true,"  said  Lawson.  "It  gives  me  the  great- 
est pain  to  tell  you  anything  so  bad  of  your  brother, 
but  there's  no  help  for  it." 

"But  how  do  you  know  ?"  interrupted  E£6e. 

"I  know  by  the  best  of  evidence.  I  have  had  my 
suspicions  for  some  time,  but  I  happened  to  see  him 
coming  out  of  one  of  those  places  last  week — yes,  I 
must  tell  you — I  saw  him  coming  out  of  a  gambling 
den.  I  think  he  goes  night  after  night.  At  present 
he  is  winning  more  than  he  loses,  but  that  is  always 
the  game  for  drawing  fellows  on." 


194         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"It  must  be  stopped,"  said  Effie.  She  felt  quite 
faint  and  sick.  If  her  mother  knew  this  it  would  kill 
her  on  the  spot. 

They  had  nearly  reached  the  hospital,  and  Effie 
turned  and  faced  Lawson. 

"You  don't  half  know  what  this  means  to  me," 
she  said.  "George  is  not  exactly  like  an  ordinary 
brother.  When  iny  father  died  quite  suddenly,  of 
diphtheria,  some  months  ago,  he  left  my  mother  in 
George's  care.  If  George  goes  to  the  bad  now,  she 
will  certainly  die;  you  must  have  noticed  for  your- 
self how  she  is  wrapped  up  in  him." 

"Yes ;  no  one  could  fail  to  notice  it.  I  think  her 
love  for  him  beautiful;  and  he  loves  her,  too.  Poor 
fellow! — that  is  his  great  redeeming  point." 

"Oh,  I  don't  call  it  real  love,"  said  Effie,  almost 
with  passion,  "to  deceive  her  as  he  does — to  do  wrong, 
and  that  sort  of  wrong.  Oh,  I  think  my  heart  will 
break!" 

Tears  choked  her  voice;  she  had  the  greatest  pos- 
sible difficulty  in  keeping  them  back.  Lawson  took 
out  his  watch. 

"You  are  not  late,"  he  said.  "Let  us  take  a  turn 
around  this  square." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         195 

They  had  entered  an  old-fashioned  square,  where 
there  were  very  few  people.  They  walked  around 
and  around  the  dismal  central  garden  for  some  time. 
Lawson  talked  and  Effie  listened.  After  a  time  they 
decided  that  George's  perilous  downward  career  must 
be  stopped  at  any  cost.  Lawson  said  he  would  make 
it  his  business  to  see  George  the  following  evening, 
to  tell  him  quite  frankly  what  he  knew,  and,  in  short, 
to  compel  him,  if  necessary,  to  do  what  was  right. 

"He'll  be  obstinate,"  said  Effie.  "I  know  he'll  be 
hard  to  deal  with,  Oh,  what  shall  we  do  ?  What 
shall  we  do  ?  I  am  quite  certain  that  already  my 
mother  has  gone  far  beyond  our  means.  She  hasn't 
been  half  careful  enough  since  I  left  her.  If  George 
stops  getting  money  in  this  way,  she'll  wonder  and 
question.  I  doubt  very  much  whether  you  can  have 
the  least  influence  over  him.  What  is  to  be  done  ?" 

"Don't  be  so  downhearted,"  said  Lawson.  "He 
requires  a  man  to  tackle  him — a  man  who  really 
knows  the  temptation?  young  fellows  meet.  If  you'll 
allow  me  to  say  so,  Miss  Staunton,  I  don't  think  the 
case  quite  hopeless;  anyhow,  you  may  be  quite  sure 
I'll  do  my  best  for  him." 

"Thank  you,"  said  poor  Effie ;  "you  are  more  than 


196          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

good,  and  I  do  trust  you."  She  hurried  back  to  the 
hospital,  but,  to  her  dismay,  when  she  got  there, 
found  that  she  was  a  quarter  of  an  hour  late. 

Absolute  punctuality  in  returning  from  any  out- 
door pleasure  is  expected  from  all  nurses.  She  hur- 
ried upstairs,  hoping  that  she  might  gain  her  room, 
put  on  her  cap  and  apron,  and  return  to  the  ward 
before  Sister  Kate  had  time  to  miss  her.  This  might 
have  been  the  case — for  Sister  Kate  had  been  very 
much  occupied  with  some  anxious  cases  during  the 
afternoon — had  not  one  of  the  nurses,  who  had  a  spite 
against  Effie  for  being  prettier  and  cleverer  than  her- 
self, drawn  Sister  Kate's  attention  to  the  fact  that 
the  young  probationer  was  behind  her  time.  This 
nurse  had  seen  Effie  walking  with  Lawson.  Imme- 
diately her  spirit  of  jealousy  and  envy  was  up  in 
arms;  she  did  not  for  a  moment  consider  what  in- 
jury she  might  do  the  poor  girl  by  her  false  and  un- 
kind words. 

"Nurse  Staunton  is  late,"  she  said.  "I  don't  know 
how  I  am  possibly  to  get  the  ward  in  order  for  the 
night  unless  I  have  some  help." 

"I  must  speak  to  her,"  said  Sister  Kate,  glancing 
at  tne  clock,  and  looking  a  little  annoyed.  "This 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         197 

wasn't  her  Sunday  to  go  out,  either.  I  cannot  let 
the  rules  be  broken  in  this  way.  Let  me  know  as 
soon  as  ever  she  comes  in." 

"I  suppose  there's  some  excuse  to  be  made  for  her," 
said  the  nurse,  speaking  in  a  knowing  way.  "She's 
a  very  careful,  good  sort  of  girl,  but  there  are  times 
'vhen  the  best  of  us  forget  ourselves." 

The  woman  knew  that  Sister  Kate  would  interpret 
her  words  as  she  wished  her  to  do.  She  went  off  in 
i  hurry  to  perform  her  duties,  and  when  Erne  en- 
tered the  ward  Sister  Kate  received  her  with  marked 
coldness. 

"You  are  very  late,  nurse,"  she  said.  "Where 
have  you  been  ?" 

"I  have  been  at  home  with  my  mother." 

"Was  your  mother  ill?  Is  that  your  excuse  for 
being  behind  your  time  ?" 

"Ko;  mother  was  well — better  than  she  has  been 
for  some  time." 

"Then  why  are  you  late  ?" 

"The  fact  is,  I  was  walking  with  a  friend,  and 
forgot  to  notice  the  hour." 

"That's  no  excuse.  You  have  certainly  behaved 
rery  carelessly,  and  have  put  the  other  nurses  out 


198          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

by  not  being  in  time  to  take  your  duties.  Who  was 
the  friend  with  whom  you  were  walking?" 

Sister  Kate  had  no  right  to  ask  this  question,  but 
she  felt  much  provoked  at  the  moment,  and  the  color 
which  rushed  all  over  Effie's  face  excited  her  curi- 
osity. 

"Perhaps  you'll  think  I  did  wrong,"  said  Effie, 
looking  up  at  her  almost  defiantly.  "The  friend  was 
Mr.  Lawson.  He  knows  my  brother  very  well ;  he 
was  talking  to  me  about  him.  I  cannot  refuse  to 
speak  to  him  when  I  see  him  out  of  doors,  can  I  ?" 

"Don't  be  pert,  nurse!  You  know  it  is  one  of 
the  strictest  rules  of  the  hospital  that  none  of  the 
nurses  are  to  speak  to  the  medical  students." 

"I  know ;  and  I  don't  wish  to  speak  to  him  in  the 
hospital." 

"See  you  don't,  or  you'll  be  dismissed  at  once; 
in  fact,  the  less  you  know  of  any  of  the  medical 
students  the  better  for  you.  I  am  very  sorry  that 
this  young  man  knows  your  brother.  I  should  not 
have  had  anything  to  do  with  you  had  I  been  aware 
of  this  fact." 

"How  absurd  and  unjust !"  murmured  Effie  under 
her  breath.  She  turned  away.  She  felt  absolutely 
cross. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         199 

Sister  Kate  called  her  back. 

"£Tow  bustle  about,"  she  said.  "The  supper-trays 
want  to  be  taken  away ;  the  women  are  perfectly  tired 
of  waiting  to  be  settled  for  the  night." 

Effie  moved  mechanically  about  her  duties.  Her 
heart  felt  sick.  She  did  not  think  she  could  remain 
much  longer  under  Sister  Kate's  care.  "If  she  treats 
me  like  this,"  thought  the  proud  girl,  "I  cannot  en- 
dure it.  Mr.  Lawson  is  nothing  to  me — he  is  only 
my  brother's  friend.  He  is  good,  and  wants  to  help 
us  in  an  hour  of  great  perplexity.  What  shall  I  do  ? 
I  feel  tied  and  fettered  in  every  way." 

She  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow  only  to  burst  into 
tears.  She  cried  herself  to  sleep.  All  the  world 
seemed  black  to  her. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

EFFIE  saw  very  little  of  Dorothy  Fraser,  but  on 
the  following  day,  to  her  great  surprise  and  pleasure, 
as  she  was  leaving  the  dining-hall,  Dorothy  came  up 
and  spoke  to  her. 

"You  have  a  minute  to  spare,"  she  said;  "just 
come  out  on  this  balcony  and  talk  to  me." 

Effie  obeyed  her. 

"What  do  you  want  with  me,  Dorothy  ?"  she  asked. 

"I  wish  to  know  why  you  look  so  pale  and  worried. 
You  seem  to  have  displeased  Sister  Kate,  too." 

Effie  very  nearly  burst  into  tears,  but  she  restrained 
herself. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,"  she  said.  "It  is  the  most 
unjust  thing!" 

She  then  mentioned  in  as  few  words  as  possible  the 
circumstance  of  Lawson  having  spoken  to  her — of 
her  great  anxiety  about  George — and  of  her  having 
walked  back  with  the  young  medical  student  from 
her  home  on  the  previous  evening. 
200 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         201 

Dorothy  looked  very  grave  while  Effie  was  speak- 
ing. 

"It  is  unfortunate,"  she  said.  "This  is  just  the 
sort  of  thing  that  injures  a  girl  at  the  commencement 
of  her  hospital  life." 

"But  it  is  so  ridiculous  and  unjust,"  said  Effie. 
"What  in  the  world  can  Mr.  Lawson  be  to  me  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  of  course,  my  dear,"  replied  Dor- 
othy. "But  still  the  rules  cannot  be  too  strict  on 
this  point.  You  know  I  am  not  a  prude,  but  all  girls 
are  not  like  you,  Effie ;  and,  in  short,  Sister  Kate  is 
in  the  right.  Some  one  must  have  seen  you  walking 
back  with  Mr.  Lawson,  and  must  have  told  her,  or 
hinted,  at  least,  at  the  state  of  the  case.  Nothing 
else  would  have  induced  her  to  question  you." 

"She  had  no  right  to  speak  to  me  about  acquain- 
tances that  I  meet  out  of  the  hospital." 

"Strictly  speaking,  she  has  no  right ;  that's  why  I 
say  she  must  have  got  a  hint." 

"Oh,  well,  never  mind  her,"  said  Effie.  "I  won't 
speak  to  Mr.  Lawson  again,  unless  I  meet  him  out 
of  doors,  where  I  can,  and  shall,  whatever  Sister 
Kate  may  say." 

"Effie,  you  must  be  careful." 


202          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"I  don't  want  to  think  of  myself  at  all.  Can't 
you  see  how  miserable  I  am  about  my  mother  and 
about  George?" 

"Yes;  it  is  a  most  wretched  business.  I  am  more 
sorry  for  you  than  I  can  say." 

"Oh,  I  wish  something  could  be  done !"  said  Erne. 
"I  feel  tied  and  fettered  here — I  feel  almost  wild.  I 
cannot  devote  myself  to  my  necessary  duties." 

"Poor  child !"  said  Dorothy  in  her  caressing  voice. 
"Let  me  think ;  I  must  help  you  in  some  way.  Sup- 
pose I  go  to-day  to  see  your  mother  ?  I  had  a  chance 
of  having  the  whole  afternoon  to  myself,  but,  as  I 
had  nowhere  in  particular  to  go,  was  determining 
not  to  avail  myself  of  it;  but  now  I  can  be  of  use 
to  you." 

"Oh,  Dorothy !  would  you  really  go  to  see  mother  ? 
It  will  be  of  the  greatest  possible  use.  You  have 
such  tact — you  can  say  things  that  no  one  else  would 
venture  to  say;  and  then,  if  only  you  could  see 
George!" 

"I'll  take  the  thing  up  somehow,"  said  Dorothy; 
"you  shan't  be  dragged  and  worried  to  death,  you 
dear,  brave  little  girl.  Give  me  a  kiss,  Effie,  and  go 
back  to  your  work.  Between  Mr.  Lawson  and  me  we 
will  pull  you  through  this  trouble,  see  if  we  don't." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         203 

"Do  you  know  Mr.  Lawson,  Dorothy  ?" 

"Know  him !  Of  course  I  do.  He  is  one  of  the 
very  nicest  fellows  here — as  good  as  gold,  and  as 
steady  as  a  rock,  and  with  such  a  beautiful  enthusi- 
asm for  his  profession — he'll  make  a  splendid  doctor 
by  and  by.  Yes,  Effie,  don't  mistake  me;  it  is  not 
the  man  I  object  to,  it  is  the  fact  that  he  is  a  medi- 
cal student  and  that  you  are  a  nurse.  So  many  bad 
things  have  been  said  about  nurses  and  medical  stu- 
dents that  all  nurses  worthy  of  the  name  have  to  make 
up  their  minds  to  show  the  world  that  they  can  and 
will  nurse  without  even  the  thought  of  flirtation  com- 
ing into  their  head." 

"You're  right,  of  course,"  said  Effie,  with  burning 
cheeks.  "But  it's  a  shame,  it's  horrible!  How  can 
any  one  think  I  wish  to  flirt  ?" 

She  turned  away — she  was  obliged  to  go  back  to 
her  duties ;  but  her  heart  felt  much  lighter  after  her 
conversation  with  Dorothy. 

That  afternoon  Sister  Kate,  watch  Effie  as  she 
would,  could  find  no  fault  with  her.  She  was  at- 
tentive, tactful,  kind  and  considerate;  a  little  bit  of 
her  old  pleasant  cheerfulness  had  also  returned  to 
her ;  her  face  looked  less  careworn. 


204          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

The  faet  is,  she  was  leaning  on  Dorothy,  and  felt 
the  comfort  of  Dorothy's  strong  support. 

The  patients  were  only  too  glad  for  Effie  to  do 
things  for  them ;  and  No.  47,  who  was  very  weak  and 
low,  smiled  whenever  the  girl  approached  her  bed- 
side. 

"Hold  my  hand,  love,  whenever  you  have  a  min- 
ute to  spare,"  said  the  poor  creature.  "I  feel  low 
like,  awfully  low;  I  am  going  down — down,  and  it 
supports  me  to  hold  your  hand;  you're  a  good  girl, 
any  one  can  see  that." 

"I  try  to  be,"  said  Effie,  tears  springing  to  her 
eyes. 

"Ah,  it's  well  to  be  good,"  continued  the  woman. 
"When  we  come  to  lie  as  I'm  lying  now,  we  think  a 
sight  of  goodness." 

"I  hope  you'll  soon  be  better,"  said  Effie. 

"Never,  my  love;  never  again.  I'm  going  out — 
that's  what  is  happening  to  me ;  it's  a  lonesome  thing 
to  die,  but  I  don't  feel  so  lonesome  when  I'm  holding 
your  hand." 

Effie  came  to  the  poor  creature  as  often  as  she 
could.  Once  again  the  fascination  of  the  life  she  so 
dearly  loved  drew  her  out  of  herself,  and  enabled  her 
to  forget  the  heavy  home  cares. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         205 

In  her  bedroom  that  night  Sister  Dorothy  paid  her 
a  visit. 

"Well,  Effie,"  she  said,  "I've  news  for  you.  Mr. 
Lawson  saw  George  last  night.  He  spoke  to  him 
quite  frankly,  and  said  that  if  he  did  not  immediately 
give  over  this  awful  gambling  he'd  go  and  see  his 
cousin,  Mr.  Gering." 

"And  what  did  George  say  ?"  asked  Effie. 

"Oh,  he  promised  as  faithfully  as  possible  that 
he'd  give  it  up.  Mr.  Lawson  seemed  quite  pleased 
with  him,  and  said  he  didn't  think  he'd  have  been 
so  penitent  and  so  easily  influenced  as  he  has  been." 

"But  will  he  give  it  up  ?"  questioned  Effie. 

"He  promised  to.  Of  course  he  is  anxious  at  not 
being  able  to  earn  more  money,  for  the  foolish  fel- 
low encouraged  your  mother  to  be  extravagant,  and 
now  there  are  several  debts  which  must  be  met  some- 
how. What's  the  matter  with  you,  Effie  ?  Why  do 
you  start?" 

"How  can  I  help  it?  Debts  would  kill  mother. 
Perhaps  I  ought  to  tell  you,  Dorothy — you  have  been 
so  good  to  me,  and  I  trust  you  so  much  that  I  don't 
think  it  can  be  wrong  to  tell  you  any  trouble  which 
concerns  me." 


206          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"No,  of  course  it  isn't.  Speak  out  what  is  in  you! 
mind,  Effie." 

"Well,  George  was  in  trouble  that  time  he  came 
to  see  father — that  time  when  father  was  dying.  He 
owed  Mr.  Lawson — I  can't  tell  you  how,  I  can't  tell 
you  why — two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  He  said 
that  if  the  money  were  not  paid  back  within  six  weeks 
he,  George — oh,  Dorothy!  how  can  I  say  it? — 
would  have  to  go  to — to  prison!  He  said  he  must 
have  the  money  for  our  mother's  sake.  So  I  went  to 
see  Squire  Harvey,  and  he — he  lent  it  to  me." 

Dorothy  sat  down  on  the  side  of  the  bed.  Effie's 
story  made  her  feel  very  grave.  She  paused  for  a 
moment,  puzzled  what  to  say. 

"He  lent  me  the  money,"  continued  Effie,  looking 
straight  at  her  friend  with  her  bright  eyes.  "I  know 
he  never  wants  it  back  again,  but  he  must  have  it 
back." 

"Oh,  yes !  he  must  have  it  back !"  exclaimed  Dor- 
othy. 

"Well,  he  lent  it  to  me,"  continued  Effie  with  a 
sigh,  "and  I  thought,  of  course,  that  George  would 
be  all  right  after  that,  and  I  arranged  that  the  squire 
should  have  his  interest  regularly.  I  thought  my 
own  salary  would  nearly  cover  that." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         207 

"It  can't  be  done,"  interrupted  Dorothy.  "Your 
salary  barely  pays  for  your  washing  and  your  few 
out-of-pocket  expenses.  It's  absolutely  impossible 
that  you  can  live  here  without  a  penny;  the  little 
you  earn  must  go  to  yourself." 

"Then  there's  nothing  for  it,"  said  Effie ;  "I  must 
go  where  I  can  earn  more.  I  hate  the  thought  be- 
yond all  words,  but  I  must — I  must  do  it!" 

"You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  would  give 
up  your  life  as  a  nurse  ?" 

"Do  you  think  for  a  moment,  Dorothy,  that  I'd 
give  it  up  willingly  ?  It  makes  me  sick  to  think  of 
relinquishing  what  has  been  my  dream  ever  since  I 
was  a  little  girl;  but  I  see  plainly  that  I  must  do 
something  to  earn  money  to  help  mother;  and  then, 
if  George  does  keep  straight,  perhaps  we  may  all  be 
happy  some  day." 

Tears  choked  Effie's  voice ;  her  eyes  grew  dim. 

"What  do  you  think  of  doing,  dear  ?"  said  Dorothy 
in  a  gentle  voice. 

"I'll  go  to  the  Harveys  and  ask  them  to  take  me 
as  a  governess  for  Freda.  I  fancy,  somehow,  that 
they  might  be  induced  to  give  me  a  good  salary — 
something  like  fifty  or  sixty  pounds  a  year,  and  I  can 


208         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

teach  a  child  like  Freda  very  well  indeed,  for  father 
saw  that  I  was  well  educated.  There's  nothing  else 
for  it,  I  can  see  that;  but  it  breaks  my  heart,  all  the 


CHAPTER   XIX 

BOEOTHY  talked  a  little  longer  to  Effie.  When 
at  last  she  left  her  the  poor  girl  felt  soothed  and 
strengthened.  She  dropped  off  to  sleep,  to  dream 
of  the  old  days  when  she  was  living  in  the  pretty  lit- 
tle cottage  in  Whittington,  and  when  she  longed  so 
earnestly  to  go  out  into  the  wide  world.  Effie  woke 
long  before  it  was  time  to  get  up.  She  thought  of 
her  dream,  and  sighed  heavily  to  herself.  She  was 
in  the  wide  world  now,  with  a  vengeance.  Did  it  look 
as  fair,  as  rose-colored,  as  fascinating,  as  it  used  to 
look  in  her  early  dreams  ?  No ;  the  reality  was  bitter 
enough.  She  would  have  given  a  great  deal  at  that 
heavy  moment  of  her  life  to  turn  back  the  page  and 
be  a  child  at  home  again. 

The  nurses'  bell  rang,  and  she  got  up  quickly.  Next 

week  she  was  to  take  her  turn  at  night  nursing.     She 

was  getting  on  well,  and  notwithstanding  the  small 

cloud  which  now  existed  between  her  and  Sister  Kate, 

209 


210          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Sister  Kate  knew  Effie's  value.  There  are  nurses 
and  nurses.  Many  girls  who  go  as  probationers  to 
the  great  hospitals  are  thoroughly  unsuited  to  the 
life ;  their  qualifications  are  not  those  essential  to  the 
good  nurse ;  they  are  destitute  of  tact,  of  presence  of 
mind,  of  that  tenderness  which  can  be  firm  as  well 
as  gentle.  But  Erne  was  an  ideal  nurse ;  her  soft  and 
gentle  ways,  her  kind  yet  firm  glance,  the  cleverness 
she  showed,  the  tact  she  displayed,  all  proved  to  Sis- 
ter Kate  that  the  young  probationer  might  one  day 
be  a  valuable  help  to  her.  She  was  angry  with  Erne 
at  present,  but  she  was  determined  to  leave  no  stone 
unturned  to  help  the  girl  and  train  her  thoroughly 
in  her  noble  profession. 

During  that  night  Sister  Kate  had  thought  of  Effie. 
She  had  noticed  her  pale  face  during  the  past  day,  the 
sadness  in  her  eyes,  the  heaviness  in  her  steps,  and  her 
heart  smote  her  a  little,  a  very  little. 

"I  don't  believe  that  girl  could  do  anything  mean 
or  underhanded,"  she  reflected.  "Of  course  it  is 
tiresome  that  she  should  know  any  of  the  medical 
students,  but  I  believe  I  can  trust  her  word  that  she 
will  never  speak  to  this  young  man  except  out  of 
hospital/' 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         211 

Accordingly,  Sister  Kate  met  Effie  the  next  morn- 
ing with  much  of  her  old  pleasantness.  Effie's  sad 
heart  bounded  again  in  her  breast  when  Sister  Kate 
spoke  kindly  to  her,  and  she  went  about  her  duties 
with  the  determination  not  to  leave  even  the  smallest 
matter  undone.  Thoroughly  and  carefully  she  went 
through  all  the  minutiae  of  those  everlasting  cleanings 
and  brushings. 

At  last  her  morning's  work  was  over,  and  now 
came  the  crucial  moment  when  she  must  speak  to 
Sister  Kate.  The  doctors  had  gone  their  rounds,  the 
patients  were  all  settled  for  the  morning.  Effie  came 
up  to  Sister  Kate  in  one  of  the  corridors. 

"Can  you  spare  me  a  few  moments  of  your  time  ?" 
she  asked. 

The  sister  looked  up  at  the  tall  clock  in  the  pas- 
sage. 

"Do  you  want  to  see  me  about  anything  impor- 
tant?" she  asked. 

"Yes,  it  is  something  important." 

"Well,  come  into  my  private  room;  I  can  give 
you  five  minutes." 

Sister  Kate  sat  down — Effie  stood  before  her. 

"I'll  try  and  tell  you  what  I  want  as  briefly  as 


212          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

possible,"  she  said.  "I  wish  to  know  if  I  can  be 
spared  to  go  out  this  afternoon  ?" 

"It  is  not  your  afternoon  out.  What  do  you 
mean  ?" 

"I  wouldn't  ask  if  it  wasn't  necessary.  The  fact 
is,  there's  great  trouble  at  home,  and  I — I  must  see 
my  mother,  and  perhaps  I  may  have  to  make  another 
visit." 

Sister  Kate  frowned. 

"I  don't  wish  not  to  sympathize  with  you,  of 
course,"  she  said  after  a  pause,  "but  the  fact  is, 
nurses  should  detach  themselves  as  much  as  possible 
from  home  life.  The  nurse  who  really  gives  herself 
up  to  her  splendid  calling  has  to  try  to  forget  that 
she  has  a  home.  She  has  to  remember  that  her  first 
duties  consist  in  taking  care  of  her  patients  and  in 
learning  her  profession." 

"Then  I  can't  be  a  nurse,"  said  Erne,  the  color 
rushing  into  her  face. 

Sister  Kate  looked  at  her  and  shook  her  head. 

"I  am  very  sorry,"  she  said  after  a  pause.  "The 
fact  is,  I  had  great  hopes  of  you — you  have  many  of 
the  qualifications  which  go  to  make  a  splendid  nurse ; 
I  won't  recount  them  here.  I  had,  as  I  said,  great 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         213 

hopes  of  you,  but  your  words  now  make  me  fear  that, 
excellent  as  those  qualifications  are,  they  are  over- 
balanced." 

"By  what  ?"  asked  Effie. 

"By  sentimentality — by  nervous  overworry  about 
matters  which  you  should  leave  in  other  hands." 

"I  have  no  other  hands  to  leave  them  in ;  the  fact 
is,  home  duties  must  always  be  first  with  me.  I've 
got  a  mother  and  several  young  brothers  and  sisters. 
I  am  the  eldest  daughter.  I  cannot  let  my  mother 
suffer,  even  to  indulge  what  has  been  for  a  long  time 
the  great  dream  of  my  life.  It  is  very  probable  that 
I  shall  have  to  give  up  being  a  nurse." 

"How  can  you  ?  You  are  engaged  here  for  three 
years." 

"I  must  beg  of  the  governors  of  the  hospital  to  let 
me  off;  the  case  is  a  special  one — the  trouble  under 
which  I  am  suffering  is  most  unexpected.  I  fear,  I 
greatly  fear,  that  I  shall  be  obliged  to  leave  the  hos- 
pital for  a  time." 

"I  am  truly  sorry  to  hear  that,"  said  Sister  Kate. 
"Does  your  friend,  Miss  Fraser,  know  of  this  ?" 

"Yes." 

"I  hope  it  may  not  be  necessary.     As  I  said,  you 


214          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

have  the  making  of  a  good  nurse  in  you.  You  want 
to  go  away  for  a  few  hours  ?  Well,  I'll  try  and  man- 
age it.  Perhaps  when  you  go  home  and  see  your 
people  you  will  find  that  it  is  unnecessary  for  you 
to  sacrifice  yourself  to  this  extent.  Anyhow,  you 
can  have  from  two  till  five  to-day.  ]STow  go  and  finish 
up  your  morning's  work.  Leave  everything  as  much 
in  train  for  the  afternoon  as  you  can.  You  can  stay 
out  from  two  till  five.  I  hope  you'll  have  good  news 
for  me  when  you  return." 

"I  hope  I  shall,"  said  Effie;  but  her  heart  felt 
low.  She  had  little  expectation  of  being  able  to  con- 
tinue the  life  which  she  longed  to  perfect  herself  in. 
At  two  o'clock  she  went  out,  and  did  not  take  many 
minutes  in  reaching  her  mother's  door. 

Mrs.  Staimton  looked  surprised  to  see  her. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Effie  ?"  she  said.  "How  white 
and  worn  you  look !  Why  have  you  come  back  to- 
day?" 

"I  wanted  to  see  you,  mother,  so  I  got  an  afternoon 
off  duty.  Sister  Kate  was  kind — I  begged  of  her  to 
let  me  come.  I  have  a  great  longing  to  see  you." 

"Well,  my  dear,  I'm  all  right.  The  fact  is,  I  get 
better  and  better." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         215 

Mrs.  Staunton  was  seated  by  the  window.  She 
was  making  a  pinafore  for  little  Marjory ;  her  needle 
flew  in  and  out  of  the  stuff.  She  was  trimming  the 
pinafore  with  narrow  lace.  Effie  took  it  up  and  sat 
down  by  her  mother. 

"Your  hands  tremble,  mother;  are  you  really 
well  2" 

"Oh,  yes,  my  love ;  yes !  You  look  at  me  as  if  you 
thought  there  was  something  the  matter.  Have 
you Effie,  your  looks  frighten  me !" 

"Don't  let  them  frighten  you,  dear  mother.  You 
know  the  greatest  longing  of  my  heart  is  to  help  and 
serve  you.  If  there  is  anything  worrying  you,  you'll 
tell  me,  won't  you  ?" 

"I  will,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton.  She  paused  and 
looked  at  her  daughter.  "There's  nothing  exactly 
worrying  me,"  she  said  after  a  pause,  "but  still  I  feel 
a  little  bit  anxious." 

"You'll  tell  me,  won't  you  ?" 

"You  won't  scold  me,  Effie  ?" 

"As  if  I  could,  mother  darling !" 

"Well,  perhaps  I  did  a  rash  thing — poor  dear 
George ! — you  know  how  devoted  I  am  to  him,  Effie  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  mother,  darling;  any  one  can  see  that." 


216          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Well,  the  fact  is,  I — I  yielded  to  his  entreaties. 
Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  tell  you,  Effie — perhaps  it 
will  displease  him." 

"Yes,  do  tell  me,"  said  Effie.  "There  ought  not 
to  be  any  secrets  in  one's  family.  I  ought  to  know — 
I  will  know.  You  are  worried  about  something,  and 
I  will  know  what  your  burden  is.  What  is  it, 
mother  ?" 

"I'll  tell  you  in  a  few  words.  There's  nothing  in 
it,  after  all.  Shortly  after  you  left  us  George  per- 
suaded me  to  put  my  money  into  the  City  Bank  in 
his  name.  He  said  it  seemed  such  folly  to  have  two 
accounts  for  such  very  small  sums." 

"You  did  it  ?"  said  Effie,  her  face  turning  white. 

"Yes !  yes !  I  knew  you  would  reproach  me.  I 
won't  be  reproached — I  won't !" 

"I  will  not  say  a  word,  dearest,  dearest  mother. 
Take  my  hand — your  hand  does  shake  so.  Now  tell 
me  all  about  it." 

"Oh,  it's  nothing,  my  love,  really,  only " 

k  "Yes,  mother;  only?" 

"Only  this  morning  I  asked  George  to  fill  in  a 
check  for  me  before  he  went  to  town.  He  did  so.  It 
was  for  five  pounds.  He  seemed  vexed  at  my  requir- 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         217 

ing  sc  much,  but  I  said  I  couldn't  do  with  less,  for 
there  was  the  landlady  to  pay,  and  the  butcher  has 
been  so  troublesome  with  his  bills.  I  couldn't  do 
with  less  than  five  pounds,  and  George  drew  a  check 
for  me  for  that  amount.  I  sent  Aggie  with  it  straight 
to  the  bank,  and " 

Mrs.  Staunton's  face  became  very  pale,  her  hand 
shook  more  violently  than  ever. 

"Yes,  mother?"  said  Erne. 

"They  sent  it  back,  Effie,  with  'No  effects'  written 
across  the  back.  I  am  sure  there  must  be  a  mistake, 
but  they  told  Aggie  that  George  had  overdrawn  his 
account,  and  that  they  couldn't  cash  this  check — there 
were  no  effects,  that  was  it." 

"No  effects!"  said  Effie,  her  face  scarlet.  "But 
hadn't  you  some  of  your  money  still  left  in  the  bank  ?" 

"Yes,  I  had  over  fifty  pounds.  I  put  the  money 
into  the  bank  in  George's  name  over  a  week  ago.  It 
was  to  last  us  for  some  time.  Oh,  Effie !  don't  look 
at  me  with  those  reproachful  eyes !  I  feel  faint !" 

Effie  got  up  quickly;  she  poured  some  sal  volatile 
into  a  wineglass,  and  filling  it  up  with  water,  brought 
it  to  her  mother  to  drink. 

Mrs.  Staunton  was  soon  better.  The  passing  weak- 
ness went  off  quickly. 


218          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

''What  is  to  be  done  ?"  she  said,  raising  her  eyes 
to  her  daughter.  "Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  don't  scold 
me,  Effie!" 

"Of  course  I  don't,  mother  darling.  You  must 
have  money ;  you  can't  get  on  without  it." 

"That's  just  what  I  say.  I  am  sure  I  am  as  sav- 
ing as  woman  could  be,  but  the  expenses  are  so 
heavy." 

"Yes ;  of  course." 

"I'm  expecting  George  in  every  minute,"  said  Mrs. 
Staunton.  "He  has  very  likely  put  the  money  back 
into  the  bank  now.  He  is  doing  such  a  splendid  busi- 
ness that  perhaps  he  drew  the  fifty  pounds — meaning 
to  return  it  at  once.  He  has  such  a  capital  head  for 
making  money — really,  I  never  knew  such  a  boy.  I 
dare  say  he  has  put  it  back  doubled." 

"Oh,  mother,  don't  you  know  better?  How  can 
he  do  that  ?  But  now  let  us  talk  of  something  else. 
Here's  Agnes!  That's  right,  Agnes;  will  you  get 
some  tea  for  mother  ?  She's  quite  weak  and  upset. 
I'm  going  out.  I  must  hurry,  for  I've  to  be  back  at 
the  hospital  at  five.  I'm  going  out,  but  I'll  come  to 
see  you,  mother,  before  I  return  to  the  hospital.  Get 
the  tea,  Agnes ;  don't  be  long  about  it." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         219 

Agnes  put  a  little  kettle  on  the  fire. 

"Do  you  know  about — about  the  check  ?"  she  asked 
Effie  in  a  whisper. 

"Oh,  yes ;  don't  make  a  fuss  over  it — it  will  be  all 
right." 

"Mrs.  Robinson  says  she  must  be  paid — she  is  owed 
four  weeks'  rent,  and  she  won't  let  it  go  on  any 
longer." 

"I'll  see  her  when  I  come  back,"  said  Effie.  "STow 
do  take  care  of  mother.  I  won't  be  away  a  minute 
longer  than  I  can  help." 

"Won't  you  have  a  cup  of  tea,  first,  Effie  ?" 

"No !  no !    I've  no  time." 

Effie  ran  downstairs  and  went  out  into  the  street. 
She  felt  nerved  and  braced  now.  The  moment  of  in- 
decision was  past — the  moment  for  definite  action 
had  arrived.  There  was  no  question  with  regard  to 
her  duty.  It  lay  plain  and  straight  before  her. 

She  happened  to  know  that  the  Harveys  were  in 
town.  They  were  staying  in  Eaton  Place.  She  took 
an  omnibus,  which  presently  brought  her  into  the 
neighborhood  of  Victoria ;  a  few  minutes  afterward 
she  rang  the  bell  at  their  hall  door. 

A  man-servant  whom  she  did  not  know  opened  it. 


220         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Is  Mrs.  Harvey  at  home  ?"  asked  Effie. 

"I  believe  so,"  he  replied,  "but  I'm  not  sure  if 
she  can  see  any  one." 

"Perhaps  she  will  see  me  if  you  give  her  my  name," 
said  Effie  in  a  gentle  voice.  "Say  Miss  Effie  Staun- 
ton,  please,  and  that  I  am  anxious  to  see  her  on  press- 
ing business." 

The  man  withdrew,  inviting  Effie  as  he  did  so  into 
the  hall. 

"He  takes  me  for  a  servant,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"Well,  what  matter  ?  That  truly  is  only  a  pin-prick." 

In  a  minute  or  two  he  returned  with  a  changed  ex- 
pression on  his  face. 

"Follow  me  upstairs,  please,  miss,"  he  said.  "My 
mistress  will  see  you." 

Effie  followed  him  up  some  low  stairs — her  feet 
sank  into  the  rich  carpets.  The  contrast  between  this 
luxurious  house  and  the  severity  of  the  hospital  sick- 
ened her. 

"I  shall  choke  if  I  live  here,"  she  said  to  herself. 
But  then  she  crushed  all  thought  of  self. 

The  man  led  her  up  two  or  three  short  flights  of 
stairs.  At  last  he  knocked  at  a  door  before  which 
a  rich  curtain  hung.  A  voice  said  "Come  in !"  and 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         221 

Effie  found  herself  in  Mrs.  Harvey's  presence.  She 
was  seated  in  a  deep  armchair ;  her  maid  stood  before 
her,  holding  out  different  rich  brocades  and  silks 
which  had  just  been  sent  around  for  her  to  see. 

"That  will  do,  Carey,"  she  said,  when  she  saw 
Effie.  "You  can  take  all  those  things  away.  Tell 
Madame  Miller  that  I  have  decided  on  this  blue  silk 
crepon,  and  this  rose-colored  silk.  I'll  call  around 
to  be  fitted  to-morrow  morning.  Now,  Miss  Staun- 
ton,  I'm  sorry  to  have  kept  you  waiting.  How  do 
you  do  ?  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you." 

Mrs.  Harvey  was  not  so  impulsively  glad  as  she 
had  been  the  last  time  she  saw  Effie.  The  doctor's 
death — the  death  he  had  died  for  her — seemed  re- 
moved into  the  background;  her  existence  was  ab- 
sorbed in  pleasure,  in  gayety  and  excitement.  She 
had  an  affectionate,  kindly  nature,  however,  and  one 
glance  into  Effie's  sad  eyes  softened  her  toward  the 
poor  girl. 

"Well,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?"  she  said.  "How 
are  you  ?  Why,  you  are  a  nurse — you  are  in  nurse's 
dress — how  capital !  What  a  splendid  idea !" 

"Yes,  I  am  a  probationer  at  St.  Joseph's,"  said 
Effie. 


222          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Oh,  my  dear  child,  that's  splendid  for  you,  of 
course ;  but  I  trust  you  have  brought  no  infection  in 
your  clothes." 

"No,"  said  Effie  with  the  faintest  of  smiles.  "I 
have  nothing  to  do  with  any  of  the  infectious  wards. 
I  am  quite  safe.  I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  to  listen  to  you,  my  dear. 
You  know,  of  course,  that  the  squire  and  I  take  the 
deepest  interest  in  you  and  in  your  family.  By  the 
way,  how  is  your  dear  mother  ?  and  how  are  all  those 
pretty  girls  and  boys  getting  on  ?" 

Effie  could  not  remember  that  Mrs.  Harvey  had 
ever  seen  her  mother — why,  therefore,  should  she 
speak  of  her  as  "dear"  ?  And  as  to  the  boys  and  girls, 
they  were  not  specially  remarkable  for  their  good 
looks ;  and  if  they  were,  Mrs.  Harvey  knew  nothing 
about  it.  She  answered  these  conventional  inquiries 
in  a  quiet  voice. 

"I  hope  you'll  forgive  me,"  she  said  at  the  first 
possible  pause,  "but  I  am  in  a  very  great  hurry.  I 
have  promised  to  be  back  again  at  St.  Joseph's  at 
five  o'clock,  and  it's  nearly  four  now.  May  I  tell  you 
what  I  really  came  about  ?" 

"Oh,  yes ;  of  course,  of  course !" 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         223 

"Do  you  remember,  before  I  came  to  London,  the 
very  kind  offer  you  and  the  squire  made  me  ?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Harvey,  "if  you  mean  our 
wish  that  you  should  become  governess  to  little  Freda. 
But  Freda  goes  to  a  kindergarten  now.  Carey  takes 
her  around  every  morning,  and  Rhoda  goes  to  fetch 
her  at  dinner  time.  The  life  seems  to  suit  her  very 
well.  Of  course  we  did  wish  for  you  very  much, 
but  as  you  could  not  come — oh,  no  doubt  you  have 
chosen  wisely." 

Mrs.  Harvey  yawned;  she  stretched  out  her  hand 
and  rang  the  bell.  The  servant  appeared  almost  im- 
mediately. 

"Tea  for  two,"  she  said,  "and  be  quick,  Andrewe." 

"I  can't  wait  for  tea,"  said  Effie,  rising.  "I  am 
very  much  obliged.  I  only  came  to  say  that  circum- 
stances would  make  me  inclined  to  accept  your  offer 
now ;  but  as  you  don't  want  a  governess,  there's  noth- 
ing more  to  be  said." 

"Oh,  it's  so  sweetly  good  of  you,  Miss  Staunton, 
and  had  matters  been  different  we  should  have  been 
pleased.  Well,  good-by,  if  you  must  go.  Where  did 
you  say  your  mother  lived  ?" 

"A  long  way  from  here." 


224          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"But  do  give  me  her  address.  I  should  be  so 
pleased  to  drive  around  and  see  her  some  day.  Per- 
haps she  would  go  for  a  drive  with  me.  What  a  good 
idea !  Yes,  I'll  come.  Where  did  you  say  you  lived  ?" 

Effie  had  not  said  anything. 

Mrs.  Harvey  held  out  her  limp,  long  hand.  "Good- 
by,  Miss  Statinton.  You  know  I  take  a  great  inter- 
est in  you,"  she  exclaimed. 


CHAPTER   XX 

JUST  at  this  moment  the  door  was  opened  and  the 
squire  came  in.  He  was  of  different  stuff  from  his 
wife.  When  he  saw  Effie  his  face  beamed  with  pleas- 
ure, and  he  held  out  a  big,  hearty  hand. 

"Miss  Staunton!"  he  exclaimed.  "Why,  this  is 
a  pleasure !  Oh,  you  must  not  run  away ;  you  must 
sit  down  and  tell  me  all  about  yourself — I've  been 
longing  to  hear  about  you.  How  is  your  brother  in 
the  city  ?  and  your  mother  ?  I  do  hope  she  is  a  lit- 
tle better.  And  all  those  other  lads  and  lassies  ?  Sit 
down,  my  child,  I  insist  on  it — I  have  lots  of  things 
to  say  to  you." 

Mrs.  Harvey,  who  was  standing  near  the  mantel- 
piece, came  gently  forward  when  the  squire  began 
to  speak.  She  looked  at  Effie  with  new  interest.  Her 
face  was  long  and  pale,  she  had  no  color  in  her  lips, 
her  light  hair  was  very  fashionably  dressed.  She 
wore  a  dress  of  the  latest  mode,  and  her  thin  fingers 
225 


226         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

were  loaded  with  rings,  which  flashed  and  shone 
whenever  she  moved  her  hands. 

Effie  hated  those  flashing  rings;  she  turned  her 
head  so  that  she  need  not  see  them. 

Mrs.  Harvey  began  to  talk  in  a  high  falsetto  voice 
to  her  husband. 

"Do  you  know,  my  dear,"  she  exclaimed,  "that 
Miss  Staunton  has  just  been  so  kind?  She  came 
here  to  offer  her  services  for  Freda ;  but  you  know 
dear  Freda  is  getting  on  so  capitally  at  the  kinder- 
garten, that Why,  what  in  the  world  is  the 

matter,  Walter?" 

"Matter !"  exclaimed  the  squire  in  his  hearty  voice. 
"Why,  that  we  won't  be  such  fools  as  to  reject  Miss 
Staunton's  offer.  I  was  told  only  a  few  minutes 
ago  that  that  kindergarten  is  simply  full  of  whooping- 
cough  and  measles — children  sickening  with  them  and 
going  home  almost  every  day.  I  was  going  to  say 
that  Freda  must  be  moved." 

"Oh,  I  should  think  so,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Harvey. 
"Whooping-cough  and  measles !  How  terrible !  And 
I  never  had  whooping-cough — why,  I  shouldn't  be 
able  to  go  out  for  the  whole  season  I  I  do  hope  and 
trust  the  dear  child  hasn't  contracted  the  infection. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         227 

Dear  Miss  Staunton,  of  course  you'll  come.  It  is 
exactly  what  we'd  like  best.  How  soon  can  you  come  ? 
To-morrow  ? — to-night  ?" 

"Neither  to-morrow  nor  to-night,"  said  Erne.  "But 
if  you  really  wish  for  me,  and  if  we  agree  as  regards 
terms,  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  saying  if  we  agree  as  to 
terms?"  asked  Mrs.  Harvey. 

"I  want  a  big  salary,"  said  Erne,  looking  up  brave- 
ly at  the  two,  who  were  watching  her  with  half- 
amused,  half-anxious  expression.  "I  want  to  come 
to  you  and  to  leave  the  work  which  I  love  best  be- 
cause I  hope  you  may  be  induced  to  give  me  an  excep- 
tional salary.  I  want  the  money  because  my  mother 
and  my — my  young  brothers  and  sisters  are  almost 
— at  least  they  will  be,  if  I  don't  get  it,  almost  starv- 
ing." 

Erne  spoke  in  jerks.  She  had  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty in  keeping  back  her  emotion.  It  was  dreadful 
to  have  to  plead  with  these  rich  people — these  people 
who  knew  nothing  whatever  of  her  sore  need — to 
whom  money  was  so  plentiful  as  to  have  lost  its  fresh- 
ness, its  desirability,  its  charm.  It  was  awful  to  look 
into  their  faces — to  see  the  blank,  non-comprehending 


228          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

stare  which  came  into  Mrs.  Harvey's  pretty  blue  eyes, 
and  to  notice  the  puzzled  expression  on  the  squire's 
face. 

"You  can't  mean  that !"  he  exclaimed.  "You  can't 
mean  there's  any  chance  of  that !" 

"There  is  a  chance  of  it,  but  not  if  I  come  here. 
I  know  how  kind  you  are,  how  noble  you  have  been 
to  me.  I'll  come  to  Freda.  I'll  do  everything  for 
her;  I'll  teach  her,  and  I'll  play  with  her,  and  I'll 
love  her,  and  I'll  nurse  her  if  she  is  ill — but  oh,  do 
please  be  generous,  and  give  me  as  big  a  salary  as 
you  can!" 

"What  do  you  expect  ?  What  do  you  think  fair  ?" 
asked  the  squire. 

"I  thought — I  know  it  seems  a  great  deal — but  I 
thought  you  might  be  willing  to  give  me  sixty  pounds 
a  year." 

"Bless  you,  my  dear  child !"  exclaimed  the  squire. 
"If  you'll  accept  it,  we'll  give  you  a  hundred  and 
fifty." 

"Xo,  I  couldn't  accept  that,"  said  Effie.  "It  is 
not  fair." 

"Why  not  ?  We  couldn't  get  any  one  else  to  ex- 
actly take  your  place  for  the  money;  and  remember 
we  have  plenty  of  money." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         229 

"I'll  take  a  hundred  a  year,  because  I  am  in  sore 
distress,"  said  Effie  after  a  brief  pause,  "and — and 
will  you  pay  me  monthly,  and  may  I  have  my  first 
month's  salary  in  advance  ?  I  wouldn't  ask  it  if  they 
didn't  want  it  terribly  at  home.  Will  you  do  this  ?" 

"Yes,  with  pleasure,"  said  the  squire.  "I  insist 
on  your  accepting  ten  pounds  a  month — that  will  be 
one  hundred  and  twenty  a  year.  Now,  will  you  have 
a  check,  or  shall  I  give  you  the  money  in  gold  and 
notes?" 

"The  gold  will  be  the  most  acceptable,"  said  Effie. 
"Oh,  I  feel  so  ashamed !"  she  added. 

"Why  should  you?  You  give  us  an  equivalent. 
Besides,  it  makes  matters  more  tolerable.  I  cannot 
forget " 

"Oh,  don't,  Walter!  Don't  allude  to  that  awful 
time!"  cried  Mrs.  Harvey. 

The  squire  shut  up  his  lips.  He  took  a  little  bun- 
dle of  gold  out  of  one  of  his  pockets  and  put  ten 
sovereigns  into  Effie's  hand. 

"It  is  a  bargain,"  he  said.  "I  cannot  tell  you  how 
relieved  we  are.  You'll  be  with  us  the  morning  after 
next  ?  Elfreda,  my  love,  we  must  tell  our  little  Freda 
what  a  pleasure  is  in  store  for  her." 


230         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Yes,  I  am  more  than  delighted,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Harvey.  "This  plan  suits  me  in  every  way.  Ydu 
won't  fail  us,  Miss  Staunton  ?  For  in  case  Freda, 
by  any  chance,  has  taken  that  awful  whooping-cough, 
you  can  keep  her  in  isolation  from  the  very  first." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Effie,  smiling;  "but  I  dare  say 
she  is  all  right." 

She  shook  hands  with  her  new  employers  and  left 
the  house. 

The  gold  'was  in  her  pocket.  She  felt  that  she 
had  sold  herself  and  her  mission  in  life  for  ten  sov- 
ereigns. "It  is  the  present  need  which  makes  the 
thing  so  desperate,"  she  said  under  her  breath.  "If 
George  has  drawn  all  the  money  they  have  absolutely 
nothing  to  live  on ;  but  more  will  come  in,  and  there's 
this  to  go  on  with.  We'll  manage  somehow  now." 

She  returned  to  the  lodgings,  but  before  she  went 
upstairs  she  had  an  interview  with  the  landlady. 

"What  do  you  charge  my  mother  for  rent?"  she 
asked. 

"Well,  Miss  Staunton,"  exclaimed  the  woman, 
"with  the  dinners  and  one  thing  and  another,  I  am 
obliged  to  make  it  a  pound  a  week." 

"That  is  a  great  deal  too  much,"  said  Effie.     "I 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         231 

don't  suppose  it  is  too  much  for  your  rooms,  but  it  is 
more  than  we  can  afford  just  now.  When  we  first 
came  to  you,  you  agreed  to  let  us  the  rooms  without 
attendance  for  fifteen  shillings  a  week.  We  cannot 
by  any  possible  management  afford  to  pay  more." 

"But  Mrs.  Staunton  wished  for  attendance,  miss — 
she  said  it  made  all  the  difference ;  there  was  half  a 
crown  for  attendance,  and  half  a  crown  extra  for 
kitchen  fire." 

"But  the  kitchen  fire  was  included  in  the  fifteen 
shillings  a  week." 

"Then  there  wasn't  late  dinner." 

"Surely  there  is  no  late  dinner  now?"  exclaimed 
Effie. 

"Oh,  yes,  miss.  Every  evening  Mr.  Staunton  re- 
quires a  nice  little  bit  of  dinner  sent  up  when  he 
comes  home.  You  see,  miss,  it  is  quite  impossible 
for  me  to  have  extra  fires  without  charging  for  them." 

"Certainly.  Well,  I  don't  think  there  will  be  any 
extra  dinner  in  future.  And  now  please  tell  me  ex- 
actly how  much  is  due  to  you  ?" 

"Four  pounds,  miss;  but  if  I'm  paid  one  on  ac- 
count I  shan't  mind  waiting.  I'd  be  really  sorry  to 
disoblige  such  a  nice  lady  as  your  mother,  Miss  Staun- 
ton." 


232         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Here  is  the  money  in  full,"  said  Effie.  "Will 
you  give  me  a  receipt  ?" 

"Oh,  with  pleasure,  miss.  Won't  you  sit  down? 
I  hope,  Miss  Staunton,  nothing  will  induce  your  good 
mother  to  move  from  here.  I  will  do  everything  in 
my  power  to  make  her  comfortable." 

"You  must  understand,"  said  Effie,  "that  in  future 
she  only  pays  fifteen  shillings  a  week  without  extras. 
My  sisters  Agnes  and  Katie  are  quite  old  enough  to 
do  all  the  waiting  which  my  mother  requires.  In 
fact,  they  must  do  so,  for  we  can't  afford  to  pay  a 
penny  more." 

"Am  I  to  understand,  miss,  that  there's  no  late 
dinner  ?" 

"Certainly  not," 

"Very  well.  I  am  sure  I'll  do  all  in  my  power 
to  oblige." 

Effie  left  her,  putting  her  receipt  carefully  in  her 
pocket  as  she  did  so.  She  went  upstairs  and  entered 
the  little  sitting-room,  where  her  mother  was  now 
pacing  quickly  and  restlessly  up  and  down.  There 
was  a  deep  flush  on  her  cheeks  and  a  look  of  despair 
in  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  Effie,  you've  come!"  she  exclaimed  the  mo- 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         233 

ment  she  saw  her  daughter.  "George  has  been  in. 
There's  something  wrong,  I  know — I  know  there  is ! 
He  came  in  just  for  a  minute,  and  he  kissed  me,  and 
said  he  wasn't  coming  home  to-night,  and  he — he 
looked  wild.  He  stuffed  a  few  things  into  a  bag, 
and  said  I  wasn't  to  expect  him  back  to-night.  I 
didn't  dare  ask  him  about  the  money.  What — what 
can  be  the  matter,  Effie  2" 


CHAPTER   XXI 

EFFIE  did  all  in  her  power  to  soothe  her  mother. 
It  was  past  the  hour  for  her  return  to  St.  Joseph's, 
but  under  the  present  circumstances  she  could  not 
give  this  matter  a  thought.  Mrs.  Staunton  was  strung 
up  to  a  terrible  condition  of  nervousness.  She  walked 
faster  and  faster  about  the  room ;  she  scarcely  spoke 
aloud,  but  muttered  words  under  her  breath  which 
no  one  could  hear.  At  every  footfall  on  the  stairs 
she  started.  Sometimes  she  went  to  the  door  and 
flung  it  open ;  sometimes  she  went  to  the  window  and 
pressed  her  face  against  the  glass.  Darkness  set  in, 
and  the  lamps  were  lit  in  the  street.  Katie  went  to 
the  window  to  pull  down  the  blinds. 

"No,  don't  touch  them,"  said  Mrs.  Staunton  fret- 
fully. She  still  kept  staring  into  the  street.  Pres- 
ently she  called  Effie  to  her. 

"Doesn't  that  man  turning  the  corner  look  some- 
thing like  George?"  she  exclaimed. 
234 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         235 

Effie  looked  eagerly. 

"No,  that's  not  George,"  she  said. 

"Agnes,  you  have  better  sight,"  called  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton  to  her  next  daughter;  "come  and  watch  with 
me — we  are  sure  to  see  him  soon.  It  can't  be  that 
he  has  gone  away  for  the  night — for  the  whole  night ! 
Isn't  that  him  ?  Look  at  that  man — that  one  crossing 
the  road — that  one  in  the  waterproof !  Oh,  how  hard 
it  is  raining !  If  George  is  out  much  longer  he'll  be 
drenched  to  the  skin.  Aggie,  look;  and  you,  Katie, 
can't  you  watch  ?  Now,  that  man,  isn't  that  George  ?" 

"No!  no!  mother!"  answered  the  poor  children 
in  affright. 

Mrs.  Staunton  kept  on  making  exclamations.  Again 
and  again  she  cried  out  hopefully  that  surely  George 
was  coming  now ;  but  George  himself  never  really  ap- 
peared. Effie  knew  that  she  would  get  into  hopeless 
disgrace  at  St.  Joseph's.  No  matter;  she  could  not 
leave  her  mother  at  such  a  moment.  Each  instant 
she  became  more  anxious  about  her.  She  called 
Agnes  aside,  and  told  her  that  she  had  put  a  stop  to 
the  late  dinner,  and  also  to  the  extra  attendance,  but 
as  probably  some  dinner  had  been  ordered  for  that 
evening  she  had  better  go  down  and  bring  it  up,  as 
Mrs.  Staunton  must  be  forced  to  eat  at  any  cost. 


236          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

Agnes  tripped  out  of  the  room,  and  presently  re- 
turned with  a  couple  of  pork  chops  and  some  baked 
potatoes.  She  flung  them  down  on  the  table,  ex- 
claiming that  the  tray  was  heavy.  She  looked  cross, 
and  evidently  seemed  to  think  that  Erne  was  making 
a  great  fuss  over  nothing. 

"Why  can't  George  be  away  for  a  single  night  with- 
out every  one  getting  into  such  a  state?"  she  mur- 
mured. 

Effie  took  the  tray  from  her  and  gave  her  a  look  of 
reproach.  She  laid  the  cloth  herself,  and  made  the 
table  look  as  pretty  as  she  could.  She  then  went  to 
her  mother,  drew  her  gently  but  firmly  away  from 
the  window,  and  making  her  sit  down,  tried  to  coax 
her  to  eat. 

Mrs.  Staunton  looked  at  the  chops  with  dazed  eyes. 

"Those  were  for  George !"  she  exclaimed.  "What 
a  shame  to  bring  them  up  before  he  has  come  into 
the  house !  They'll  be  cold  and  sodden,  and  he  hates 
his  food  sodden.  You  don't  suppose  I'm  going  to 
touch  my  boy's  dinner?  No!  ~Not  II  Put  the 
chops  down  in  the  fender,  Aggie.  When  George 
conies  in  I  always  ring  the  bell  twice.  How  careless 
of  Mrs.  Robinson !  Effie,  my  dear,  I  don't  think  we 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         237 

can  stop  with  her  if  she  treats  us  in  this  fashion. 
It's  perfectly  disgraceful  to  cook  George's  food  before 
he  is  ready  for  it." 

Agnes  began  to  explain  that  George  was  not  com- 
ing home,  but  Effie  silenced  her  with  a  look.  She 
s&w,  to  her  horror,  that  her  mother's  mind  was  be- 
ginning to  wander.  She  was  really  expecting  George 
— who  had  not  the  faintest  idea  of  coming  back.  Poor 
Effie  saw  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  humor  her 
mother.  She  put  the  food  inside  the  fender,  and 
then,  going  to  a  davenport  in  a  corner  of  the  room, 
wrote  a  hasty  letter  to  Dorothy  Eraser. 

"We're  in  great  trouble,"  she  wrote.  "I  know  you 
can't  come.  I  know  it  is  absolutely  impossible  for 
you  to  come,  but  neither  can  I  go  back  to  St.  Joseph's 
this  evening.  Please  tell  Sister  Kate,  Make  any 
excuse  for  me  you  like — say  anything  that  comes  into 
your  head.  My  career  as  a  nurse  is  ended." 

A  big  tear  dropped  from  Effie's  eyes  as  she  wrote 
these  last  words.  She  folded  up  the  letter  and  gave 
it  to  Agnes. 

"Agnes,"  she  said,  "you  must  take  this  at  once 
to  St.  Joseph's  Hospital." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  how  to  get  there,"  said  Agnes, 
"and  I  was  never  out  so  late  before  in  the  evening/' 


238          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  to  send  you — stay,  you  had 
better  take  Katie  with  you.  It  would  be  better  for 
the  two  of  you  to  be  together.  Put  on  your  hats  ai*d 
your  warm  jackets ;  don't  be  longer  away  than  you 
can  help — you  have  just  to  give  this  note  to  the  hall 
porter  and  come  straight  back.  You  must  take  the 
red  omnibus  that  goes  along  Oxford  Street,  and " 

Effie  added  a  few  more  practical  directions.  Ag- 
nes' eyes  sparkled  at  the  thought  of  a  little  variety  in 
her  dull  life.  Katie  ran  willingly  into  her  room  to 
fetch  her  own  and  her  sister's  hats  and  jackets.  They 
were  dressed  in  a  very  short  time.  Effie  heard  them 
running  downstairs,  and  listened  to  the  slam  of  the 
hall  door.  She  had  now  set  the  irrevocable  seal  to 
her  own  act.  She  had  deliberately  turned  her  back 
on  the  life  that  she  loved.  She  stood  for  a  moment 
with  a  dizzy  feeling  in  her  head,  then  with  a  little 
prayer  which  she  sadly  needed  to  help  her,  she  put 
aside  all  regret,  and  turned  with  a  brave  heart  to  face 
the  dark  present  and  the  gloomy  future. 

Mrs.  Staunton  stood  near  the  window  with  her 
back  to  her  daughter.  Effie  listened  with  a  sick  heart 
to  her  mutterings.  She  knew  that  her  mother  could 
not  possibly  get  better  if  she  refused  to  eat. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         239 

She  was  wondering  what  to  do,  and  how  she  could 
dare  to  leave  her,  when  a  quick  step  was  heard  run- 
ning up  the  stairs,  and  the  next  moment  Fred  Lawson 
came  in. 

Effie  never  to  her  dying  day  forgot  the  feeling  of 
relief,  of  almost  joy,  which  ran  through  her  heart 
when  she  saw  his  clever,  resolute  face.  He  came  in 
in  his  usual  quick,  brisk,  determined  way,  stopped 
short  a  little  when  he  saw  her,  and  then  glanced  sig- 
nificantly at  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Staunton  had  turned  as  eagerly  as  Effie  when 
she  heard  the  quick  footsteps.  Now  her  face  was  an 
absolute  blank ;  she  had  come  a  step  forward ;  her 
hands  suddenly  fell  to  her  sides. 

"My  mother  is  not  well,"  said  Effie.  "She's  up- 
set." 

"No,  I'm  not  upset ;  you're  greatly  mistaken,"  said 
Mrs.  Staunton.  "Why  should  I  be  upset  ?  There's 
not  a  happier  woman  in  Christendom  than  I  am.  It's 
true  my  beloved  husband  has  left  me,  but  then  I  have 
got  my  boy — there  never  was  a  braver  boy.  How 
do  you  do,  Mr.  Lawson?  Pray  forgive  me  for  not 
shaking  hands  with  you  when  you  came  into  the 
room — the  fact  is,  I  have  been  expecting  George.  His 


240         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

dinner  is  in  the  fender.  The  landlady  did  very 
wrong  indeed  to  send  it  up  before  I  rang  for  it.  I 
always  ring  twice  for  George's  dinner,  don't  you  un- 
derstand ?  It  is  a  good  plan.  George  likes  his  meals 
hot  and  tasty.  No  wonder — he  earns  them ;  he  is 
a  dear,  good,  clever  fellow — he  is  getting  a  fine  sal- 
ary. Did  you  happen  to  meet  him  on  the  stairs  ? 
Perhaps  you  passed  him — he  is  a  little  late,  just  a 
little  late.  Effie,  can  you  tell  me  if  Mr.  Lawson  has 
good  sight  ?  If  he  has,  perhaps  he'll  come  and  watch 
by  the  window.  I'm  watching,  but  my  eyes  are  a  lit- 
tle weak  at  times.  I  might  not  see  George  when  he 
is  really  there.  Will  you  come  and  see,  Mr.  Lawson  ? 
He  ought  to  be  coming  now,  my  dear  boy — my  dear- 
est, my  boy !" 

Lawson  gave  Effie  a  glance.  In  a  moment  he  read 
the  true  position.  The  poor,  weak  brain  had  sud- 
denly given  way.  He  went  up  gently  to  Mrs.  Staun- 
ton  and  took  one  of  her  hot  hands  in  his. 

"When  George  comes  in,"  he  said,  "I'll  be  here, 
and  I'll  tell  him  about  his  dinner.  I  know  he'll  be 
late  to-night,  and  you  mustn't  wait  up  for  him  any 
longer.  Come,  Miss  Effie  will  put  you  into  bed. 
When  you  are  in  bed  I'll  give  you  something  to  make 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         241 

you  sleep.  Come,  now;  don't  delay;  you're  quite 
worn  out.  If  you  don't  go  to  bed  you'll  be  ill,  and 
then  you'll  be  of  no  use  to  your  son." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?"  said  Mrs.  Staunton. 
"Yes,  I  mustn't  be  ill ;  George  doesn't  like  it — it  quite 
frets  him.  He  is  not  like  his  dear  father.  He  wants 
a  cheerful  home — no  wonder,  he  is  young,  dear  lad; 
he  is  young.  Yes,  I'll  go  to  bed,  and  then  I'll  be 
all  right  in  the  morning.  Come,  Effie,  help  your 
mother  to  bed." 

Effie  took  the  poor  woman  out  of  the  room.  They 
went  into  the  little  bedroom.  She  helped  her  mother 
to  undress.  When  she  saw  her  lay  her  head  on  the 
pillow  she  went  back  to  the  sitting-room,  where  Law- 
son  was  quietly  standing. 

"I  happened,  most  fortunately,"  he  said  the  mo- 
ment he  saw  her,  "to  have  some  packets  of  bromide 
in  my  pocket.  There  is  sal  volatile  in  the  room.  I 
have  made  up  a  rather  strong  composing  draught  for 
your  mother.  If  she  takes  it  she  will  sleep  peacefully 
and  will  not  be  likely  to  wake  until  the  morning. 
Give  it  to  her  at  once,  and  then  come  back  to  me.  I 
have  something  to  tell  you." 

Effie's  trembling  knees  could  scarcely  support  her 
IBJJ  »ke  scent  back  to  the  next  room. 


2          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Has  George  come  yet  ?"  asked  the  mother. 
"Not  yet,  mother.    Won't  you  take  this  m-  /iicine, 


"Yes,  my  love,  yes.  Effie,  you  are  a  very  good 
girl — a  great  comfort  to  me,  my  darling.  I'm  glad 
you  never  went  to  the  hospital ;  it  was  a  mad,  foolish 
scheme,  and  George  never  liked  it.  You  are  a  great 
comfort  to  me,  and  a  great  comfort  to  your  dear 
brother.  You'll  be  sure  to  give  him  his  dinner  com- 
fortably when  he  comes  back,  Effie  ?" 

"Yes,  mother,  yes.  Now  do  go  to  sleep,  dear 
mother." 

Mrs.  Staunton  drank  off  the  medicine,  laid  her 
head  on  the  pillow,  and  closed  her  dim,  dark  eyes. 
Effie  watched  by  her  until  she  thought  she  was  drop- 
ping asleep.  Pretty  little  Marjory  was  lying  sound 
asleep  in  the  same  bed.  Phil  opened  his  big  eyes  as 
his  sister  passed. 

"Is  anything  the  matter  ?"  he  whispered.  "Is  any- 
thing wrong  with  George?" 

"Pray  for  him,  Phil,"  said  Effie,  tears  suddenly 
filling  her  eyes. 

"Yes !  yes !"  said  the  little  fellow.    "I  always  do." 

Effie  went  into  the  next  room. 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         243 

"You  have  plenty  of  pluck,  haven't  you?"  said 
Lawson  when  he  saw  her. 

"I  hope  so — I  had  need  to  have." 

"Yes,  I  know  that.  Well,  that  unfortunate  boy 
has  put  his  foot  in  it  at  last.  He  is  in  trouble — de- 
tectives are  after  him." 

"Detectives  after  George !"  exclaimed  Effie.  "What 
can  you  possibly  mean  ?  Oh,  do  tell  me  at  once — 
don't  leave  me  in  suspense !" 

"Sit  down,  and  I  w7ill  tell  you.  Try  not  to  agitate 
yourself ;  try  to  listen  to  me  quietly.  Remember  that 
a  brave  woman  can  always  control  her  nerves." 

Effie  sat  down  when  Lawson  bade  her.  Something 
in  his  quiet  but  resolute  voice  soothed  her  impatience ; 
she  looked  up  at  him  as  he  stood  by  the  mantelpiece, 
resting  one  arm  on  it. 

"The  facts  are  these,"  he  began  at  once.  "Staun- 
ton  has  been  going  wrong  for  a  long  time " 

"I  know  it — I  know  it  well,"  interrupted  Effie. 

"Yes,  I  feared  that  you  knew  it.  Poor  fellow! 
Soon  after  his  arrival  in  London  he  got  with  bad 
companions.  He  has  naturally  extravagant  tastes. 
They  introduced  him  to  some  of  those  gambling  sa- 
loons. Given  a  weak  nature,  the  love  of  money  for 


244          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

the  pleasure  it  can  give,  a  will  weakened  by  self- 
indulgence,  and  the  result  is  easy  to  forecast.  George 
has  been  going  from  bad  to  worse  for  months  past. 
He  has  sometimes  won  considerable  sums  of  money, 
and  these  successes  have  excited  him  to  try  again — 
with  this  devil's  luck,  as  the  saying  is.  Of  late,  how- 
ever, that  luck  has  turned  against  him,  and  the  events 
which  took  place  to-day  are  only  the  natural  conse- 
quences." 

Effie  rose  slowly  from  her  seat. 

"Go  on,"  she  said,  coming  up  to  Lawson.  "What 
took  place  to-day  ?  Go  on,  please.  I  am  quiet — I  am 
prepared  for  anything." 

Lawson  gave  her  a  look  of  admiration. 

"You  are  a  brave  girl,"  he  said  briefly.  "The 
world  would  be  a  better  place  if  there  were  more 
like  you  in  it.  Well,  what  took  place  is  this.  Staun- 
ton  won  heavily  at  cards  the  night  before  last.  Not 
content  with  his  gains,  however,  he  persevered  until 
the  luck  turned  against  him.  Before  he  left  the  gam- 
bling saloon  he  had  lost  all  his  gains  and  was  in  debt 
fifty  pounds.  To  meet  that  debt  he  drew  your  moth- 
er's money  from  the  bank  yesterday  morning." 

"I  know,"  said  Effie  with  white  lips,  "mother  told 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         245 

me.  She  sent  Agnes  to  the  bank  to  cash  a  small  check. 
Agnes  was  told  that  George's  account  was  overdrawn. 
Yes,  I  know  that.  Is  there  more  behind?  Surely, 
that  must  be  the  worst !" 

"Alas !  I  wish  it  were.  This  morning  the  poor 
fellow,  while  engaged  in  his  duties  at  Gering's  office, 
met  with  the  temptation  for  which  he  was  so  ripe. 
It  was  a  horrible  one.  He  knew  that  your  mother 
had  not  a  penny.  His  feeling  for  her  I  need  not 
enter  upon.  He  found  himself  in  the  room  with  an 
open  till,  and  took  fifty  pounds  out  of  it.  Soon  after- 
ward he  made  an  excuse  to  leave  the  office.  He  wan- 
dered about  all  day  in  an  indescribable  state  of  mis- 
ery. At  last  he  summoned  courage  to  go  to  the  bank 
and  deposit  forty-five  of  the  fifty  pounds.  He  then 
rushed  home,  and  packing  his  things,  prepared  to  run 
away.  He  said  he  was  certain  to  be  taken  if  he 
stayed,  and  simply  could  not  bring  himself  to  face 
the  risk.  He  went  to  Waterloo,  and  to  his  horror 
discovered  th^t  he  was  watched.  A  man,  undoubted- 
ly a  detective  in  plain  clothes,  was  following  him 
from  place  to  place.  The  man  watched  him  take  his 
ticket  for  Southampton,  and  noticed  the  corner  in 
which  he  deposited  his  bag,  in  a  third-class  carriage. 


246          A  GIRL  IX  TEN  THOUSAND 

George  seemed  to  lose  hi?  head  at  this  crisis.  He 
managed  to  elude  the  detective,  slipped  out  of  the  sta- 
tion, took  a  hansom  and  drove  straight  to  my  rooms. 
Luckily,  I  was  at  home.  He  made  a  clean  breast  of 
everything  to  me.  He  is  in  my  rooms  now,  and  safe 
for  the  time  being,  for  no  one  will  think  of  looking 
for  him  there.  I  want  you  to  come  with  me  at 
once  to  see  him,  for  there  is  not  a  moment  to  be  lost 
in  deciding  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

"Yes,"  said  Erne,  "I  will  come." 

She  felt  stunned;  her  keenest  feelings  of  anguish 
were  lulled  into  momentary  quiet  by  the  greatness  of 
this  blow. 

"I  will  write  a  note  to  Agnes,"  she  said.  "She  is 
out — I  had  to  send  her  to  the  hospital  to  say  that 
I  could  not  return  there  to-night."  Then  she  added, 
her  face  turning  whiter  than  ever,  "If  my  mother 
knows  of  this  it  will  kill  her." 

"Your  mother  is  the  person  to  be  considered,  of 
course,"  said  Lawson.  "But  for  her,  I  should  say 
that  the  best  thing  possible  for  George  would  be  to 
undergo  the  punishment  which  he  merits.  As  it  is, 
however,  matters  are  different.  Well,  write  your 
note,  and  let  us  be  quick.  That  strong  opiate  will 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         247 

keep  your  mother  sleeping  quietly  until  the  morning. 
All  your  sister  has  to  do  is  to  watch  her." 

Effie  drew  a  sheet  of  paper  toward  her,  scribbled 
a  few  hasty  lines  on  it,  folded  it  up,  and  left  it  where 
Agnes  could  see  it  the  moment  she  returned ;  then 
she  followed  Lawson  into  the  street. 

He  hailed  a  passing  hansom,  and  they  drove 
straight  to  his  rooms  on  the  Embankment. 

The  feeling  of  a  dream  remained  with  Effie  all  dur- 
ing that  drive ;  she  kept  rubbing  her  eyes  and  saying 
to  herself,  "It's  only  a  dream — I  shall  awaken  pres- 
ently, and  find  myself  back  at  St.  Joseph's." 

The  hansom  drew  up  at  the  lodgings,  and  Lawson 
preceded  Effie  upstairs.  He  threw  open  the  door  of 
his  little  sitting-room. 

"Come  in,"  he  said.  "Here  is  your  sister,  Staun- 
ton !"  he  sang  out. 

Effie  entered.  She  found  herself  in  a  small,  bright 
room.  The  gas  was  turned  full  on;  one  of  the  win- 
dows was  open — a  fresh  breeze  from  the  river  came 
in.  George  was  seated  on  a  horsehair  sofa  at  the 
farthest  end  of  the  room.  He  held  a  small  walking- 
stick  in  his  hand,  and  was  making  imaginary  patterns 
with  it  on  the  carpet.  His  shoulders  were  hitched  up 


248          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

to  his  ears,  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  ground.  Effie 
looked  at  him.  She  said : 

"George,  I  am  here — I  have  come." 

He  did  not  make  any  response.  She  gave  a  little 
cry  when  he  took  no  notice  of  her,  and  sank  down 
helplessly  on  the  nearest  chair. 

Lawson  strode  across  the  room  and  grasped 
George's  shoulder. 

"Look  here,  Staunton,"  he  said,  "you  have  got  to 
pull  yourself  together.  I  have  brought  your  sister 
here  to  consult  what  is  best  to  be  done.  Look  up, 
old  chap!  Take  courage — all  isn't  lost  yet.  Now 
try  and  tell  your  sister  everything." 

"I  have  nothing  to  tell  her,"  said  George.  He 
raised  two  lackluster  eyes  and  fixed  them  with  a  sort 
of  dull  stare  on  Lawson's  face. 

"Don't  talk  folly !  You  have  to  tell  her  what  you 
told  me.  You  know  the  position  you  are  in — you 
may  be  arrested  at  any  moment.  No  one  can  help 
you  but  your  sister.  Don't  turn  away  from  her." 

"Oh,  I  understand  all  that,"  said  George,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulder  out  of  Lawson's  grip.  "I  know 
well  enough  what  has  happened.  I — I  can't  help  it — • 
I  have  nothing  to  say." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          249 

Lawson  looked  at  the  big  fellow  almost  in  despair. 
He  was  really  puzzled  what  to  do.  This  was  the 
moment,  however,  for  Effie  to  take  the  initiative.  She 
sprang  suddenly  to  her  feet,  dashed  the  tears  from 
her  eyes,  and  went  up  to  her  brother.  She  fell  on 
her  knees  by  his  side  and  put  her  soft  arms  around 
his  neck. 

"Think  of  the  old  days,  Geordie,"  she  said,  "when 
we  were  both  little  children.  Think  of  mother  and 
father,  and  the  little  old  house,  and  the  apple-tree  in 
the  garden.  Don't  you  remember  the  day  when  that 
ripe  red  apple  fell,  and  we  ate  it  bite  about  ?" 

When  Effie  began  to  speak  George  trembled.  He 
avoided  her  eyes  for  a  moment  longer,  then  he  gave 
her  a  quick,  furtive  glance. 

"I  couldn't  help  it,  Effie,"  he  said  suddenly  in  a 
changed  voice.  "Before  God,  I  couldn't  help  it !" 

Lawson  stepped  softly  out  of  the  room. 

The  moment  he  had  done  so  George  said  eagerly: 

"He  has  told  you,  hasn't  he  ?" 

Effie  nodded. 

"Then  I  needn't  go  over  it.  Let's  talk  of  some- 
thing else.  How  is  mother  ?" 

"She  is  very  ill  indeed.  She  watched  for  you  all 
the  evening." 


250          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Watched  for  me?  But  I  told  her  I  shouldn't 
be  back  to-night." 

"Yes ;  but  she  didn't  believe  you,  or  she  forgot  it. 
Anyhow,  she  watched  for  you,  and  when  you  didn't 
come,  her  mind  began  suddenly  to  wander.  She  is 
in  bed  now.  She  is  very,  very  ill." 

"Go  on/'  said  George.  "Hammer  it  in  hard — I 
deserve  it  all." 

"Oh,  George !  Why  will  you  talk  like  that  ?  Don't 
you  believe  in  my  love  for  you  ?" 

"I  believe  in  mother's  love.  It's  the  only  thing 
I  have  left  to  cling  to.  I  believe  she'd  go  on  loving 
me  even  after  this — I  do,  truly." 

"Of  course  she  would.  Nothing  could  turn  her 
love  from  you.  Now  won't  you  let  us  consult  together 
when  Mr.  Lawson  comes  into  the  room  ?" 

"There's  nothing  to  be  done — nothing.  I'm  per- 
fectly safe  to  be  committed  for  trial,  and  then  I  shall 
get  at  least  two  years.  Mother  will  die.  And  I  shall 
have  gone  under  forever." 

"Nonsense !    I  have  a  thought  in  my  head." 

"You?"  George  spoke  almost  with  contempt. 
"You  always  thought  a  great  deal  of  yourself,  Effie, 
but  evei)  you  can't  pull  the  ropes  on  the  present  oe 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         251 

easion.  I'm  a  thief,  and  I  must  suffer  the  penalty. 
That's  the  long  and  short  of  it." 

Effie  rose  suddenly  and  walked  to  the  door.  She 
called  Lawson.  He  came  in  at  once. 

"I  think  George  will  talk  over  matters  now,"  she 
said.  "But  before  we  begin  any  discussion  I  wish 
to  say  what  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  do.  I  don't 
know  Mr.  Gering,  but  that  does  not  matter.  I  mean 
to  go  to  see  him  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning 
and  beg  of  him  not  to  prosecute  George.  That  is  the 
only  chance  for  mother's  life,  and  I  mean  to  try  it" 


CHAPTER   XXII 

WHEN  Effie  said  these  words  Lawson  gave  her  a 
startled  glance,  and  George's  sulkiness  seemed  to  van- 
ish magically.  He  opened  his  lips  as  if  to  speak, 
then  closed  them  again ;  a  rush  of  color  spread  over 
his  face,  and  he  turned  his  head  aside. 

"I  fear  it  is  impossible  that  you  can  do  the  least 
vestige  of  good,  Miss  Staunton,"  said  Lawson.  "All 
the  same,  it  is  a  brave  thought,  and  worthy  of  you." 

George  looked  around  when  Lawson  said  this.  He 
fully  expected  Effie  to  explain  herself  more  fully,  to 
argue  the  point,  and  to  give  her  reasons  for  approach- 
ing Mr.  Gering.  To  the  surprise  of  both  the  men, 
however,  she  was  silent.  After  a  little  pause  she  said, 
turning  to  Lawson : 

"Do  you  think  George  will  be  safe  here  until  the 
morning  ?" 

"I  do — perfectly  safe,"  answered  Lawson. 

"Then  I  will  say  good-night.     I  will  come  to  you, 
George,  if  I  have  news,  in  the  morning.'' 
252 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND          253 

"Oh,  you  won't  have  news,"  replied  George. 
"There  never  was  such  a  hard  nut  to  crack  as  old 
Gering." 

Effie  made  no  reply. 

"Good-night,"  she  said  to  her  brother. 

He  did  not  offer  to  kiss  her,  but  he  took  her  hand 
and  gave  it  a  silent  squeeze.  It  seemed  to  Effie  then 
that  she  got  near  his  heart. 

Lawson  took  her  downstairs  and  put  her  into  a 
cab. 

"You  are  only  wasting  your  time  in  going  to  Mr. 
Gering,"  he  said,  as  he  stood  for  a  moment  at  the 
cab  door. 

"I  must  waste  it,  then,"  replied  Effie,  "for  what- 
ever the  consequences,  I  am  going." 

"Then,  if  you  will  go,  you  had  better  do  so  early. 
Gering  is  always  at  his  office  by  nine  o'clock.  George 
may  quite  possibly  be  arrested  to-morrow  morning 
and  brought  before  the  magistrates  at  Bow  Street  at 
ten,  or  ten-thirty.  When  once  he  is  arrested,  Mr. 
Gering  can  do  nothing.  The  law  then  takes  up  the 
case,  and  prosecutes  on  its  own  account.  You  will 
see,  therefore,  that  if  you  wish  to  save  your  brother 
you  must  be  astir  betimes." 


254          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"I  quite  see,  and  thank  you  very  much,"  said 
Effie. 

Lawson  said  good-by,  the  cab  rolled  away,  and 
Effie  soon  found  herself  back  again  at  her  own  lodg- 
ings. 

She  ran  upstairs,  to  find  that  her  mother  was  still 
sound  asleep.  She  sent  the  two  tired  girls  to  bed, 
and,  lying  down  on  the  sofa  in  the  sitting-room,  tried 
to  sleep.  She  had  left  her  mother's  door  slightly 
ajar,  and  knew  that  she  would  hear  the  least  move- 
ment in  the  room.  All  was  perfect  stillness,  however, 
and  presently  Effie  fell  into  a  light  doze. 

She  awoke  long  before  the  dawn  of  day,  thought 
carefully  over  the  whole  complex  situation,  and  then 
arose  and  dressed  herself.  She  slipped  softly  into 
her  mother's  room.  The  opiate  was  still  taking  ef- 
fect. Mrs.  Staunton's  face  looked  pinched  and  drawn 
as  it  lay  on  the  pillow,  there  were  blue  lines  under 
the  eyes,  and  a  blue  tint  around  the  lips,  which  spoke 
of  heart  trouble;  but  just  at  the  present  moment 
the  spirit  was  at  peace,  and  the  body  resting  calmly. 

"Poor  mother !"  murmured  Effie.  "Poor,  tried, 
faithful  heart !  If  you  really  knew  what  I  know,  you 
could  not  survive  the  shock.  Oh,  George!  Who 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         255 

could  have  thought  of  this  who  remembered  you  in 
the  old  days?  Yes,  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  save 
mother  and  to  rescue  you.  It  is  true  that  I  am  only 
a  weak  girl,  but  sometimes  girls  like  me  have  power. 
I  will  not  be  afraid.  I  will  go  now,  to  exercise  all 
the  power  that  is  in  me." 

Effie  left  the  room;  she  went  to  the  one  where 
her  sisters  slept,  changed  her  dress  and  washed  her- 
self, and  then  waking  Agnes,  to  tell  her  to  be  sure 
to  look  after  her  mother,  she  ran  downstairs. 

The  landlady,  Mrs.  Robinson,  met  her  in  the  pas- 
sage. 

"Why,  surely,  Miss  Staunton,"  she  said,  "you  are 
not  going  out  on  a  raw,  foggy  morning  like  this  with- 
out breakfast  ?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  wait  for  breakfast!"  exclaimed  Effie. 

"I  have  some  tea  in  my  sitting-room — do  come  in, 
and  let  me  give  you  a  cup,  miss.  Do,  now — you're 
so  white,  you  look  as  if  you'd  drop." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Effie  after  a  slight  pause.  "I 
should  be  very  glad  of  a  cup  of  tea,"  she  added. 

The  landlady  bustled  her  into  her  little  sitting- 
room,  seated  her  by  the  fire,  and  would  not  leave 
her  alone  until  she  had  swallowed  a  cup  of  tea  and 
a  piece  of  toast. 


356          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

(  "I'm  all  the  better  for  the  tea/'  said  Effie.  "Thank 
you  very  much." 

The  unlooked-for  kindness  cheered  the  poor  girl ; 
she  looked  upon  it  as  a  good  omen.  She  walked 
quickly  up  the  narrow  street  which  led  into  the  larger 
thoroughfare,  and  was  soon  on  her  way  to  Mr.  Ger- 
ing's  office  in  Leadenhall  Street. 

She  arrived  there  just  as  the  clock  was  striking 
nine.  She  did  not  allow  herself  even  to  feel  ner- 
vous, but  walking  boldly  in,  asked  to  see  Mr.  Gering 
at  once. 

"Have  you  an  appointment  with  him  V  asked  the 
clerk  whom  she  addressed. 

"No ;  but  I  hope  he  will  see  me  without  that  My 
business  is  very  pressing." 

'•'What  is  your  name,  miss  ?" 

"Staunton."  Effie  hesitated  for  a  minute,  then  she 
said  abruptly :  "I  am  the  sister  of  George  Staunton, 
who  is  a  clerk  here." 

The  moment  she  uttered  the  words  every  clerk  in 
the  place  looked  up  with  interest,  and  one,  coming 
up  in  a  somewhat  familiar  way,  said  cavalierly: 

"I  don't  think  there's  the  least  use  in  your  trou- 
bling Mr.  Gering.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  beforehand 
that  he  certainly  won't  see  you." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         257 

At  this  moment  a  man  came  out  of  an  inner  room. 
He  spoke  to  the  head  clerk,  who  gave  him  a  bundle 
of  letters. 

"Take  these  to  Mr.  Gering  at  once,"  he  said. 

Effie  followed  this  man  with  her  eyes. 

The  other  clerks  stared  at  her,  expecting  her  to  go. 

8he  looked  at  the  one  to  whom  she  had  first  spoken. 

"Will  you  take  my  message  to  Mr.  Gering?"  she 
said.  "Will  you  tell  him  that  Effie  Staunton — • 
George  Staunton's  sister — wishes  to  see  him  on  most 
important  business  ?" 

There  was  much  distress  in  her  tone,  but  withal 
such  firmness,  that  the  clerk  could  not  help  looking  at 
her  with  admiration. 

"I  would  gladly  take  your  message,  Miss  Staunton, 
but  it  would  be  useless.  I  know  beforehand  that  noth- 
ing will  induce  Mr.  Gering  to  see  you." 

"He  must  see  me,"  replied  Effie  in  a  firm  voice. 
"If  no  one  here  will  be  polite  enough  to  take  him 
my  message,  I  will  go  to  him  myself." 

Before  one  of  the  clerks  could  prevent  her,  Effie 
walked  across  the  large  room,  opened  the  door  where 
the  clerk  who  took  Mr.  Gering  his  letters  had  van- 
ished, and  found  herself  the  next  moment  in  a  hand- 


258          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

somelj  furnished  room,  where  a  portly  old  gentleman 
was  seated  at  a  desk. 

He  looked  up  in  unfeigned  astonishment  when  he 
saw  a  pretty  girl  standing  near  the  door. 

As  she  did  not  speak  for  an  instant,  he  raised  his 
voice  with  an  inquiry. 

"May  I  ask  what  you  are  doing  here  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  corne  to  speak  to  you  about  my  brother," 
said  Effie. 

"Your  brother!  What  do  you  mean?  Who  is 
your  brother?" 

"George  Staunton." 

"Then,  Miss  Staunton,  let  me  tell  you  that  you 
have  taken  a  great  liberty  in  coming  to  see  me.  You 
have  forced  your  way  into  my  room  unannounced. 
I  must  ask  you  to  have  the  goodness  to  retire  as 
quickly  as  you  came.  If  you  do  not  leave  my  room 
this  moment  I  shall  be  forced  to  compel  you  to  go." 

"No,  you  will  not,"  said  Effie.  "Xo,  that  is  not 
like  you.  You  would  not  willingly  be  unkind  to  a 
suffering  and  innocent  girl  when  she  forces  herself, 
against  her  true  inclinations,  against  her  real  mod- 
esty, to  seek  an  interview  with  you.  I  come  in  great 
sorrow  and  despair,  and  you  are  not  the  man  who 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         250 

will  treat  me  roughly — I  don't  fear  it.  You  like  to 
say  harsh  words,  but  your  heart  is  not  harsh.  I  beg 
of  you,  therefore,  to  listen  to  my  story.  I  will  not 
keep  you  long." 

"You  are  a  very  queer,  courageous  sort  of  girl," 
said  Gering  after  a  pause.  "As  you  have  come,  I 
suppose  I  may  as  well  listen  to  you ;  but  please  un- 
derstand at  once  that  I  have  no  mercy  for  your  broth- 
er; that  his  career  here  is  ended." 

"That  is  only  just  and  right.  I  have  not  come  to 
plead  with  you  to  take  George  back — I  know  that 
that  would  be  asking  too  much.  What  I  have  come 
to  say  I  can  say  in  a  very  few  words." 

"They  must  be  very  few  if  you  expect  me  to  leave 
my  business  to  attend  to  them." 

Effie  came  close  to  where  Mr.  Gering  was  seated. 
He  did  not  rise,  nor  motion  her  to  a  chair.  At  this 
moment  the  clerk  who  had  refused  to  take  her  mes- 
sage entered  the  room. 

"Leave  us  for  a  moment,  Power,"  said  Mr.  Gering. 
The  man  withdrew  immediately. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Effie.  Then  she  added  abrupt- 
ly: "I  won't  keep  you  a  moment.  I  will  tell  you 
quite  simply  what  I  want.  My  brother  George  has 
behaved  very  badly." 


260          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"To  put  it  plainly,"  interrupted  Mr.  Gering,  "your 
brother  George  is  a  scoundrel !" 

"You  may  call  him  any  names  you  please,"  said 
Effie ;  "I  have  not  come  here  to  defend  him.  I  know 
that  he  stole  fifty  pounds  from  you  yesterday." 

"Oh,  you  know  that,  do  you  ?" 

"Yes.  Forty-five  pounds  of  that  money  he  put 
into  the  City  Bank  in  my  mother's  name.  That  forty- 
five  pounds  you  can  have  back  within  an  hour.  We 
shall  then  be  in  your  debt  five  pounds,  which  I  want 
you  to  let  me  pay  you  back.  I  have  just  secured  a 
very  good  situation  as  a  governess,  and  am  to  be  in 
receipt  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  a  year.  I 
can  pay  you  back  the  money  in  about  a  month's  time 
out  of  my  own  salary." 

"You  are  very  conscientious,"  said  Mr.  Gering 
with  a  slight  sneer,  "and  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  my 
money  back.  If  that  is  all  your  business,  perhaps 
you  will  leave  me." 

"No,  it  is  not  all  my  business.  I  want  you  to  for- 
give George — not  to  prosecute  him — not  to  give  him 
up  to  the  law." 

"Ah !  I  thought  that  was  coming.  And  why,  pray, 
should  I  not  prosecute  the  young  rascal  ?  Don't  you 
think  he  richly  deserves  punishment  ?" 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         261 

"Honestly,  I  do." 

When  Effie  said  this  Mr.  Gering's  eyes  twinkled 
for  the  first  time. 

"Eh!  eh!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  am  glad  we're  of 
one  mind  on  that  point.  We  both  doubtless  believe 
that  punishment  would  be  good  for  him." 

"We  do," 

"Then  why  deprive  him  of  anything  so  beneficial  ?" 

"Because  of  my  mother." 

"Your  mother !    Is  there  a  mother  in  the  case  ?" 

"There  is — a  mother  who  lies  now  at  the  point 
of  death.  Let  me  tell  you  her  story." 

"I  haven't  read  my  letters  yet,  Miss  Staunton." 

"Oh,  never  mind  your  letters!  Let  me  tell  you 
about  my  father  and  my  mother.  Four  months  ago 
my  father  was  alive.  He  was  a  country  doctor.  He 
was  very  good — every  one  loved  him.  He  caught 
diphtheria,  and  died.  My  mother  has  heart  disease, 
and  my  father  felt  sure  that  the  shock  of  losing  him 
would  kill  her.  He  loved  her  most  tenderly.  When, 
he  lay  dying  he  was  certain  that  God  would  allow 
them  both  to  leave  the  world  together.  My  mother 
was  kneeling  by  his  bedside,  and  George,  my  brother, 
knelt  there,  too.  And  my  brother  said,  'Don't  take 


262         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

mother  away,  father' ;  and  then  father  said  to  moth- 
er, 'Stay  with  George.'  At  that  moment  something 
strange  must  have  happened — all  my  mother's  great 
love  seemed  suddenly  directed  into  a  new  channel. 
Her  love  for  George  since  that  moment  has  been  the 
passion  of  her  life.  He  was  not  strong-minded." 

"No,  indeed,"  interrupted  Mr.  Gering. 

"No;  and  he  yielded  to  temptation  and  got  into 
trouble,  and — and  lost  money.  But  all  the  time  my 
mother  has  been  imagining  that  he  is  the  best  and 
steadiest  fellow  in  London.  She  lives  in  a  sort  of 
golden  dream  about  him.  If  she  learns  the  truth  she 
will  certainly  die,  and  George  will  be  lost.  He  will 
then,  as  he  himself  expresses  it,  'go  under'  forever. 
He  won't  be  able  to  stand  the  thought  that  through  hid 
sin  and  weakness  he  has  killed  his  mother." 

"I  should  hope  not,"  interrupted  Mr.  Gering. 

"Therefore  I  want  you  to  forgive  him — it  is  your 
duty." 

"My  duty,  child !  What  right  have  you  to  come 
and  talk  to  me  about  my  duty?" 

"Every  right,  if  I  can  only  make  you  perform  it." 

"You  are  either  impertinent  or  very  brave,  young 
lady.  I  was  never  spoken  to  in  this  strain  before." 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         263 

"Well,  you  see  it  is  a  matter  of  life  and  death," 
said  Effie.  "I  can't  mince  words  when  life  and  death 
hang  in  the  balance." 

"You're  a  queer  girl — a  queer  girl ;  I  don't  know 
what  to  make  of  you.  'Pon  my  word,  I'm  sorry  for 
that  mother  of  yours — poor  soul!  poor  soul!  It's  a 
pity  she  didn't  bring  up  her  son  as  conscientiously 
as  she  did  her  daughter.  Now,  you  wouldn't  have 
taken  fifty  pounds  out  of  my  till  ?" 

"No,"  said  Effie. 

"I  wish  you  were  a  boy — I'd  give  you  that  lad's 
place  within  an  hour." 

"Thank  you,  but  I  don't  think  I  should  care  to 
have  it.  Will  you  come  now  and  do  your  duty  ?" 

"Come !    Where  am  I  to  come  ?" 

"To  see  George." 

"The  rascal!    Where  is  he?" 

"I'll  take  you  to  him." 

"Do  you  know  that  you  are  bullying  me  in  the  most 
shameful  way,  Miss  Staunton  ?" 

"I  know  that  you  have  a  very  kind  heart,"  an- 
swered Effie. 

At  this  moment  the  room  door  was  opened  and 
Power  came  in  again. 


264          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"Mr.  Fortescue  has  called,  sir." 

"Tell  Mr.  .Fortescue  that  I  can't  see  him." 

"And  Ford  has  sent  around  about  that  shipping 

order.     When  can  you  give  him  his  answer?" 
"Some  time  this  afternoon." 
"But  they  want  it  this  morning." 
"Well,  they  can't  have  it.    I'm  going  out  for  a  bit. 

Come  along,  Miss  Staunton;  we  can't  let  the  grass 

grow  under  our  feet" 


CHAPTER   XXHI 

THERE  come  moments  in  the  lives  of  all  of  us  when 
we  feel  as  if  a  restraining  and  powerful  hand  were 
pulling  us  up  short.  We  have  come  to  a  full  stop; 
we  cannot  go  back,  and  we  do  not  know  how  to  pro- 
ceed. These  full  stops  in  life's  journey  are  generally 
awful  places.  We  meet  there,  as  a  rule,  the  devil 
and  his  angels — they  tear  us  and  rend  us,  they  shake 
us  to  our  very  depths  with  awful  and  overpowering 
temptation;  if  we  yield,  it  is  all  over  with  us;  we 
rush  at  headlong  speed  downhill. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  in  this  pause  we  turn  our 
back  upon  the  devil,  good  angels  come  in  his  place 
— they  whisper  of  hope  and  a  new  chance  in  life, 
even  for  us. 

When  Effie  left  George  on  that  miserable  evening, 

and  when  Lawson  retired  presently  to  his  room,  the 

young  man  found  that  he  had  come  to  such  a  fearful 

place  of  trial  as  I  have  just  described.    He  was  pulled 

265 


266         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

up  short,  and  the  devil  was  tempting  him.  At  one 
side  was  the  devil,  at  the  other  he  saw  the  face  of 
his  mother.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  lie  down 
and  sleep.  He  fought  with  the  devil  all  night.  In 
the  morning  there  was  neither  victory  nor  defeat, 
but  the  young,  smooth  face  looked  haggard  and  gray, 
and  the  upright,  well-knit  figure  was  bowed. 

Lawson  came  into  the  sitting-room  for  a  moment. 

"I  am  sorry  I  can't  stay  with  you,  George,"  he 
said.  "I  am  due  at  St.  Joseph's  at  nine  o'clock. 
Have  you  made  any  plans  for  yourself?" 

"No — at  least,  yes.  I've  had  an  awful  night,  Law- 
son,  and  there  seems  to  be  but  one  end  to  it." 

"What  is  that  ?" 

"I  must  give  myself  up.  I'm  not  the  sort  of  fellow 
to  play  the  hiding  game  successfully.  I'm  safe  to  be 
caught  sooner  or  later.  I  deserve  punishment,  too — 
I've  been  doing  badly  for  months.  What  I  deserve, 
it  seems  likely  I'll  have.  In  short,  I  think  I'd  better 
make  a  clean  breast  of  everything  and  take  my — my 
punishment  like  a  man." 

"Do  sit  down  for  a  minute,"  said  Lawson.  "There's 
a  good  deal  in  what  you  say,  and  if  you  had  only 
yourself  to  consider,  I'd  counsel  you  to  do  it — I 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         267 

would,  truly;  but  there's  your  mother  to  be  thought 
of." 

"My  mother !  Don't  you  suppose  I've  been  think- 
ing of  my  mother  all  night?  It  is  the  thought  of 
my  mother  that  maddens  me — maddens  me,  I  say! 
Look  here,  Lawson,  there's  only  one  thing  before 
me:  I'll  go  first  to  mother  and  tell  her  everything 
straight  out,  and  then  I'll  give  myself  up." 

"You  will?"  said  Lawson  with  a  start  of  sudden 
admiration.  "Upon  my  word,  George,  old  chap,  I 
didn't  think  you  had  the  grit  in  you — I  didn't, 
truly." 

"Then  you  approve  ?" 

"It  is  the  only  thing  to  be  done.  She  must  hear 
it  sooner  or  later,  and  no  one  can  tell  it  to  her  as 
you  can." 

"All  right.  I'll  go  to  her  before  my  courage  fails 
me." 

George  left  the  room  without  even  saying  good-by 
to  his  friend. 

When  he  left  the  house  he  turned  around  and 
saw  the  man  whom  he  had  noticed  watching  him  the 
day  before  at  Waterloo  Station. 

"I'll  be  ready  for  you  soon,  my  friend,  but  not 
quite  yet,"  muttered  the  young  man. 


268          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

He  walked  quickly.  The  man  followed  him  at  a 
respectful  distance. 

George  let  himself  into  his  mother's  house  with 
a  latchkey.  He  ran  up  to  the  little  sitting-room. 
Agnes  was  bending,  with  red  eyes,  over  a  kettle  which 
was  boiling  on  the  fire.  She  was  making  a  cup  of 
tea  for  her  mother,  who  had  just  awakened.  Katie 
was  cutting  bread  and  butter,  and  Phil  and  Marjory 
were  standing  by  the  window.  Marjory  was  saying 
to  Phil,  "I  spect  George  will  be  turning  the  corner 
and  coming  home  in  a  minnte." 

"Hush!"  whispered  Phil.  "Hush,  Marjory! 
George  isn't  coming  back  any  more." 

At  this  moment  the  door  was  opened  and  George 
came  in.  Marjory  gave  Phil  a  scornful  glance  and 
flew  to  her  big  brother.  Katie  flung  down  the  piece 
of  bread  she  was  buttering,  and  Agnes  turned  from 
the  fire.  George  put  out  his  hand  to  ward  them  all 
off. 

"Where's  mother  ?"  he  asked. 

"She's  awake,  but  she  has  been  very  ill,"  began 
Agnes.  "Oh,  George !  George !  do  be  careful !  Where 
are  you  going?" 

"To  my  mother,"  answered  the  young  man.  "Don't 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         269 

let  anj  one  come  with  me — I  want  to  be  alone  with 
her." 

He  went  straight  into  the  bedroom  as  he  spoke 
and  shut  the  door  behind  him. 

Mrs.  Staunton  was  lying  propped  up  high  by  pil- 
lows. The  powerful  opiate  had  soothed  her,  but  the 
image  of  George  still  filled  all  her  horizon.  When 
she  saw  him  come  into  the  room  she  smiled,  and 
stretched  out  her  weak  arms  to  clasp  him.  He  came 
over,  knelt  by  her,  and  taking  her  hot  hands,  covered 
his  face  with  them. 

"You've  come  back,  my  boy !"  she  said.  'Tin.  not 
very  well  to-day,  but  I'll  soon  be  better.  Why,  what 
is  it,  George  ?  What  are  you  doing  ?  You  are  wet- 
ting my  hands !  You — you  are  crying  ?  What  is  it, 
George  ?" 

"I  have  come  back  to  tell  you  something,  mother. 
I'm  not  what  you  think  me — I'm  a  scoundrel,  a  ras- 
cal. I'm  bad,  I'm  not  good.  I — I've  been  deceiving 
you — i>m  a  thief!" 

"Hush!"  interrupted  Mrs.  Staunton.  "Come  a 
little  closer  to  me.  You're  not  well,  my  dear  boy — 
let  me  put  my  arm  around  your  neck.  You're  not 
well,  my  own  lad ;  but  if  you  think " 


£70         A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

"I'm  as  bad  as  I  can  be,  mother,"  said  George, 
"but  it  isn't  bodily  illness  that  ails  me.  I  said  I'd 
make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  It's  the  only  thing  left 
for  me  to  do." 

A  frightened  look  came  into  Mrs.  Staunton's  eyes 
for  a  moment,  but  then  they  filled  with  satisfaction 
as  they  rested  on  the  dark  head  close  to  her  own. 

"Whatever  you've  done,  you  are  my  boy,"  she 
said. 

"No !  no !  A  thief  isn't  your  boy !"  said  George. 
"I  tell  you  I'm  a  thief!"  he  added  fiercely,  looking 
up  at  her  with  two  bloodshot  eyes.  "You've  got  to 
believe  it.  I'm  a  thief.  I  stole  fifty  pounds  from 
Gering  yesterday — and  I  was  bad  before  that.  I  won 
money  at  play — I've  won  and  lost,  and  I've  lost  and 
won.  Once  Lawson  gave  me  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  to  invest,  and  I  stole  it  to  pay  a  gambling 
debt,  and  Effie  got  it  back  for  me — she  borrowed  it 
for  me.  My  father  wouldn't  have  given  you  to  me 
if  he  had  known  that.  I  had  it  on  my  conscience 
when  I  was  kneeling  by  his  deathbed,  but  I  couldn't 
tell  him  then;  and  when  he  gave  you  to  me  I  felt 
that  I  never  could  tell.  Then  we  came  to  London, 
and  I  began  to  deceive  you.  I  told  you  a  false  story 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         271 

about  that  rise  of  salary — I  never  bad  any  rise ;  and 
I  took  your  fifty  pounds  two  days  ago  out  of  the  bank, 
and  I  stole  money  to  pay  it  back  again.  That's  your 
son,  George,  mother — your  true  son  in  his  real  col- 
ors. Now  you  know  everything." 

George  stepped  a  pace  or  two  away  from  the  bed 
as  he  spoke.  He  folded  his  arms. 

Mrs.  Staunton  was  looking  at  him  with  a  piteous, 
frightened  expression  on  her  face.  Suddenly  she 
broke  into  a  feeble  and  yet  terrible  laugh. 

"My  son  George,"  she  said.  "That  explains  every- 
thing. My  son  still — still  my  son!"  She  laughed 
again. 

There  came  a  knock  at  the  outer  door. 

"Don't  go,  George !"  said  his  mother. 

"George,  you're  wanted,"  said  Agnes.  "Effie  is 
here,  and  Mr.  Gering — they  want  to  see  you.  Come 
at  once." 

"Mr.  Gering!"  exclaimed  the  mother.  "He  was 
the  man  you  took  the  money  from.  He's  coming  to 

— to  punish  you,  to George,  you're  not  to  go! 

Stay  here  with  me !  I — I'll  hide  you !  You're  not 
to  go,  George — I  won't  let  you !  I  won't  let  you !" 

"Dear  mother !  dear,  dearest  mother !  you  must  let 


272          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

me — I  must  take  the  punishment.  I've  deserved  it, 
and  I'm  determined  to  go  through  with  it.  Just  say 
a  wonderful  thing  to  me  before  I  go,  and  I'll  be 
strong  enough  to  bear  it — and  to — to  come  back  to 
you  when  it's  over.  Say  you  love  me  still,  mother !" 

"Love  you!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Staunton. 

"Yes,  mother,  although  I'm  a  thief." 

"Bless  the  boy !  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
You're  my  boy,  whatever  you  are." 

"Then  you  do  still  love  me  ?" 

"Yes!  yes!  yes!     Of  course  I  love  the  lad!" 

George  went  straight  to  the  door  and  opened  it. 
He  walked  straight  into  the  other  room. 

"I'm  ready  to  take  the  punishment,  sir,"  he  said, 
going  straight  up  to  Mr.  Gering. 

His  manner,  and  the  look  on  his  face,  amazed  his 
late  employer. 

"Eh — eh — well,  young  sir,"  he  said,  Backing  a 
step  or  two,  "and  so  you  confess  that  you  robbed 
me?" 

"I  do." 

"And  you  know  what  lies  before  you  P 

"Yes." 

"Have  you  been  deceiving  that  mother  of  yours 
again?" 


A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND         273 

"No.     I've  been  telling  her  the  truth,  at  last." 

"Effiet  Effie!"  called  Mrs.  Staunton  from  the  bed- 
room. 

Effie  ran  to  her  mother. 

"Do  you  know,  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Gering,  "that 
you  have  got  a  very  remarkable  sister  ?" 

"Do  you  mean  Effie?  Oh,  I  always  knew  she  was 
a  girl  in  a  thousand." 

"A  girl  in  ten  thousand,  more  like.  Do  you  know, 
young  rascal,  that  she  has  been  pleading  with  me 
for  you,  and — 'pon  my  word,  it's  true ! — melting  my 
old  heart  till  I  don't  know  what  I'm  doing  ?  In  short, 
I've  made  her  a  promise." 

"A  promise!    Oh,  sir,  what?" 

"A  promise  that  I'll  let  you  off — all  but  the  moral 
punishment.  That,  of  course,  you'll  have  to  bear." 

"Mr.  Gering,  is  this  true?" 

"Yes,  it's  true.  I'm  doing  it  all  on  account  of 
your  sister.  You  may  come  back  to  the  office  to-mor- 
row, and  consider  that  you've  got  a  fresh  start.  Now, 
for  goodness'  sake,  don't  keep  me  any  longer !  Open 
the  door,  one  of  you  children,  can't  you  ?  I  must 
hurry  back  to  my  work." 

That  is  the  story,  for  George  really  did  learn  his 


274          A  GIRL  IN  TEN  THOUSAND 

lesson,  and  in  his  case  the  new  leaf  was  turned.  He 
will  carry  the  scars,  however,  of  that  time  of  sin  and 
suffering  to  his  grave. 

Effie  kept  her  promise,  and  went  as  governess  to 
little  Freda  Harvey  for  a  time,  but  only  for  a  time. 
When  money  affairs  were  straight  again,  she  gladly 
returned  to  the  life  which  she  really  loved,  and  is 
now  superintendent  of  one  of  the  wards  at  St.  Jo- 
seph's. 

It  is  true  that  there  are  whispers  afloat  with  regard 
to  her  and  Lawson — whispers  which  always  give  a 
feeling  of  consternation  in  the  ward  which  she  man- 
ages so  skillfully — but  only  Effie  herself  can  tell  if 
there  is  truth  in  them  or  not. 


THB    END 

-c. 


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